Getting Over It
by SEZCPL
Summary: Grown up Derek has it all: Money, fame and a super-model wife. What could possibly go wrong? And when it does, who is guaranteed to stick her nose in. Dasey.
1. Hermit

"D. It's Sam…Jesus Man! What can I say? Except I have a bottle of JD here that's yours if you wanna come round and drown yourself in it. I may even join you. Anyhow, giz a call."

Derek sighed. And so it began. He wondered how many more phone calls like that he was going to receive in the next week. His answer machine was flashing '3'. It would be false optimism to think that it would stay that low. It had been a while since he had seen Sam though. Maybe he'd call him back later. He could always ban _the_ topic from their conversation.

_Beep!_

"D. It's Ralphie. You know…from school…erm…why was I ringing again? Oh yeah…You wanna go for a drink…coz of…you know. Oh and Gran says to remind you that Cousin Virginia is still single. Don't smack me Amanda! She did. Yesterday when we heard the news…oh! Yeah. Maybe I should hang up or something…_click!_"

Derek snorted. Ralph never changed. And it appeared he was still under Amanda's thumb after all these years. He wondered briefly if she was pregnant yet. They had been trying for the four years since they got married. Ralph was blissfully happy and keen to have everyone else in the same state. He winced a bit at the thought of Cousin Virginia. He had met her once and couldn't decide if she was a virginal Virginia or a Ball-Gnasher Ginny. Either way, she didn't appeal.

_Beep!_

"D. It's Ed. Shit! Nora just told me the news. That fucking sucks bro! Come down and stay with me and Ruth for a bit. You can have the east wing all to yourself. Oops gotta go, my secretary wants me. Call me."

Edwin. CEO of his own private equity company. He was worth more than Derek. That was saying something. On the face of it their relationship had matured past their adolescence. Underneath, Derek was still top dog. Edwin just had his own income source these days.

_Beep!_

"Hi Derek." [honey smooth and seductive] "It's Annabelle. You poor baby…come get some lovin' from a woman who knows how to please you. You know my number."

_Oh yeah! I know your number. You get me in your bedroom you'll handcuff me to the bed and I won't be able to leave for three weeks_. _Not a chance! _Derek loved sex. Just not with Angry Annabelle. The whip marks had been difficult to explain away in the locker room.

_Beep!_

"Hi Derek. It's Nora. I know we spoke yesterday honey. I just wanted to know that you were okay and coping. You can come home any time you like. It would be nice to have the company for Robbie. You know how much he misses you. Incidentally, we've had to change the house phone number _again._ The media got hold of the last one although my cell is the same. If you speak to Casey can you let her know? Speak to you soon."

_Beep! Beep! Beep! You have no new messages._

Derek wondered how many messages he had missed when he pulled the telephone cable from the wall yesterday. He knew his agent had been fielding calls too. At the last count something in the region of 3,000 in the space of four hours. The phone company had had to lay on extra lines at short notice.

Ever since the story broke.

By the end of the day, he had heard from Marti, Emily, Lizzie, Kendra, Sally, and numerous other friends and the occasional ex-girlfriend.

He had heard from every single person he had ever known, and a couple of people who he had never known and was fairly sure he didn't want to know. There were just two people he hadn't heard from.

Chloe…and Casey. He didn't want to talk to the one, and he was fairly sure the same was true for the other, but they were both conspicuous by their absence.

Later that same day, when the constant beeping of his answer-phone was getting annoying in the extreme, he yanked the cable from the wall again. Then, taking a tub containing some sort of frozen food from the freezer, he decided it was time for dinner.

It wasn't until the rather amazing smell wafted out from the microwave that he actually bothered to look and see what was written on the plastic tub.

_Chicken Casserole._

It was written in Casey's handwriting and it made Derek roll his eyes. It was a reminder of a time a hundred years ago – or maybe just twelve – when he had lived with a family – when he had lived with Casey. It reminded him of the first time he had tasted Casey's cooking.

He wasn't surprised that she had sneaked food into his freezer. His housekeeper was always moaning about her appearing suddenly while he was away with the team, spending a whole day cooking in his ridiculously elaborate, largely superfluous kitchen and then leaving, the kitchen once again immaculate and a range of new click and snap plastic tubs in the deep freeze.

It was unnecessary because Derek could afford to hire his own cook – and when it was necessary to entertain at home, did exactly that.

It was unnecessary because his housekeeper was always offering to rustle him some thing up.

But, strangely enough, Derek ate Casey's cooking frequently even if he hadn't seen her in more than two years.

.

When the contents of the tub were in an edible state, he poured the casserole into a large pasta bowl, buttered himself some bread for dipping and retired to his favourite spot in his home, his den. He loved the room because it reminded him of his old room back home. The walls were deep, dark green and covered in framed pictures from various points in his life and career. A large comfortable couch which was more like a bed than a sofa took up the centre of the room, and was oriented towards the large open fireplace which Rita the housekeeper kept laid ready with logs. The wide, white chimney breast was flat because Derek had his cable set up to project the television picture onto the wall. The resulting "screen" was bigger than any television on the market.

If Derek had his way, he'd spend all his time in this one room. Sometimes he wondered why he needed the rest of the epic building around him, with its eight bedrooms, five reception rooms, indoor pool and gym. (never mind the extensive grounds). This average sized room was where he was happy.

Well…most of the time.

It had been here that he had retired to yesterday after he had instructed his agent to release the statement to the press. It had been here that he had decided to retreat to in order to avoid the sordid details of the last few days. It had been here that he had decided to get drunk, play wii and pass out.

That had been the plan last night – and it worked. He had managed to blot out the whole fiasco from his mind.

He figured he could handle a repeat performance tonight and striking a match, tossed it into the kindling of the fireplace. The flames took hold immediately, and the room soon glowed with the warmth of a log fire.

Settling himself on the couch, with the steaming bowl of Casey food on his lap, he flicked the cable remote and the start up picture appeared on the wall. As the system booted, Derek took a mouthful of the casserole and sighed unwillingly. Casey was undoubtedly the best cook in the family. Her casseroles were the stuff of legend. And exactly the sort of comfort food he needed right now.

For a moment, he let his thoughts wander to his errant step-sister, wondering what she was doing and whether she was happy. He smiled slightly as he considered which poor sap had gotten himself involved with her, and then he frowned as he guessed how long it would be before she got her heart broken this time. He might not have seen Casey for two years, but she was still family and therefore he got the low-down on what was going on with her every time he went home.

Frankly, that hadn't been for a while, but when he had been home in the past, there was normally a story about Casey's latest "beau" or Casey's latest "ex".

Nora wanted to be a grandma and she was looking to Casey or Derek first to provide the necessary infant.

Shame they were both equally unhelpful in that area.

.

A glass with the dregs of Jack Daniels in it was on the table beside him, along with a half empty bottle of the same. Derek poured a generous measure and pondered what Casey would make of him butchering her casserole by eating it with strong spirits.

Two years since he last saw her, but she was never far away from his thoughts.

.

He finished the food, wiping around the dish with a lump of bread in a manner that would have had all the McDonald women hissing and dumped his plate on the same occasional table beside last night's empty pizza box, and this morning's cereal bowl.

Rita would throw a fit when he next let her in here, but that probably wouldn't be for the rest of the week, by which time his den would probably resemble something close to a microbiology lab with the sheer number of different microbial specimens present on Derek's plates.

That was before she even caught a look at him. Or rather a whiff of him. Derek hadn't had a shower for two days.

He might be a multi-millionaire but he had a right to a pity party the same as anyone else. Especially after…

He helped himself to more JD and settled in for the night.

* * *

Initially, it was CNN which woke him the following morning. Or rather, the insistent calling of his name.

"Mr Venturi. Do you have any comment? Can we have a photo Derek?"

He was disoriented and it took a while to realise that the photographer / paparazzi was on the projected image on the chimney breast rather than actually in his den. He blinked and watched again, courtesy of CNN, his own progress from the offices of his lawyers to his waiting car.

Shaking his head violently to clear the JD fog from his brain, he tried to focus on the ticker banner at the bottom of the screen.

_Former Mrs Venturi claims "This is all a misunderstanding. We will be working this out."_

Derek snorted. "In your fucking dreams, babe."

Awake now, and getting more aware by the moment, Derek tried to sit up on the large couch, only to find that he was covered in toffee popcorn and his clothes and skin were sticky.

"Ew!" He said, continuing his monologue. Staggering to the mirror in the corner of the room, he confirmed that he was, indeed, a disgusting mess and that his hair in particular looked crap. "Time for a shower, methinks."

But, before he could reach the bathroom, as he opened the den door and started to make for the back stairs, a delicious aroma assaulted his nose; breakfast-like smells. His stomach growled, and confused as to who on his staff had betrayed his "leave me alone" orders, he went to investigate the traitor in the kitchen.

As he grew closer, he realised there was music coming from the cavernous room and someone was singing.

The trespasser – and the term was definitely appropriate – must have bribed one of his security team, because it wasn't one of his staff, but an intruder of the familial kind, and he knew he should be irritated beyond belief. On reflection, however, he decided alarm calls like this he could handle.

The music was 'Lady Marmalade' – the Aguilera/P!nk version. It boomed from the little tinny DVD player he kept in the kitchen and echoed around the room. The lithe figure currently dancing in front of the stove as she fried eggs and sautéed potatoes was singing the lyrics at the top of her voice.

"Voulez vous couchez avec moi, ce soir?" she sang, punctuating the beat at the end of the line with a little jiggle of her hips.

Derek leaned against the door frame his arms folded across his chest and watched the oblivious girl before him.

The dancer's form was still there, despite the advance in age. She moved as easily now as she had when they had danced together. He remembered how it felt to twist and spin her body, and the feel of her hair in his hand. It was a memory of his teenage years that ran immediately into one from his twenties.

A memory which for both their sakes, he pushed to the far recesses of his mind and buried with thoughts of…anything else he could dreg up.

It had been two years, and she was still every bit as beautiful as he remembered her; more so, because his memories never could do her justice. He smiled as he watched her, grateful for the chance to observe her without a reaction.

But then she turned to get something from the oversized fridge in the corner, saw him and stopped.

"Derek." Quiet, calm.

"Casey." Eyebrow raised to enquire why she was there.

She looked down at her feet, then up again brightly.

"Breakfast?"


	2. The Wife

"What are you doing here, Casey?" Derek asked, not moving from his position against the door, despite the siren call of the breakfast she was plating up – apparently for both of them.

Casey shrugged, and reached to turn off the radio.

"Mom was worried you weren't eating properly. I said I would come and badger you for a bit."  
He snorted. "Nice try, McDonald. Except I had a message from Nora yesterday and she mentioned that she hasn't spoken to you in a while. They've changed the home phone number again."

"Oh."

"Yes. Oh. So come on, spill. What are you doing here?"  
Casey was walking towards the breakfast bar now, carrying two plates. Derek could see placemats, tomato ketchup and cutlery already waiting, as well as a mug of his favourite coffee, and a glass of juice. She sat down on one of the bar stools.

"It's getting cold, Derek."  
"I'm waiting for an answer." He pushed.

"I can read newspapers as well as anyone else, Derek." She said softly. Their eyes met and then Derek sighed.

"Normal people would call and leave an answer phone message, Casey. Not break into my home and cook me freaking breakfast."

"It's getting cold. Eat it before I bin it."  
Derek's stomach betrayed him and his legs joined in. He found himself walking to the stool opposite Casey.

"I didn't break in. I called Simon. He let me in."

Derek made a mental note to have words with his chief of security who had always had a soft spot for Casey. He had explained when he first hired the guy that Casey had stalkerish tendencies and was under no circumstances to be allowed into Derek's home without supervision.

Stalkerish tendencies – and a way with bacon to die for.

.

"So…" Casey started cutting into her egg. "Bigamy…huh?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Derek speared some sausage.

"No of course not. It's just that of all the things I thought she would pull…"

"Casey. Knock it off. I'm not in the mood." He waved the sausage at her.

She was silent for a few minutes.

"If it's any consolation, I can see why she married you. Husband number one was a weed: greasy hair and bad skin."  
"Casey." Derek started. Then he frowned. "They've released pictures of him?"

His step-sister nodded. "You know what the internet is like. Although I suspect he probably released them himself. After all, _he_ is the one married to one of the top models in the country."  
Derek said nothing and she realised she had probably overstepped the mark.

"Sorry. That was less than tactful."

"The truth though." There was a beat and then they grinned at each other.  
"How did you find out?" She asked, looking at him over her cup of tea.

Derek shrugged. "My lawyer's good. He was going over our wills and the pre-nup, came across a strange bequest in one of Chloe's old wills and asked her about it. He tells me he didn't like the way she froze when he brought it up, so he did a bit of digging."  
"I'm sorry Derek." She sounded it.  
"Why? You weren't the one who committed the act." Derek could feel his sense of humour coming back.

Casey pushed her food around her plate. "Maybe it's a good thing." She suggested.

Derek stared at her.

"How can me finding out that my wife is actually not my wife be a good thing?"

"Well maybe now she can file for a divorce from the dweeb and you can marry her again."

"Casey. She fucking lied to me for two years! You expect me to forgive that? You're as insane as she is." _That figures._

"No. I just…at least it was just the two of you. At least, there weren't any kids."

Her words were quiet, remembering the conversation she had had with Derek two years ago when he told her that he was getting married. She remembered the emptiness in his eyes when he told her that Chloe didn't want children and the telltale sign that he was lying when he said that was okay with him. Casey had not really understood why Derek had married Chloe and when she had stated earlier that maybe it was for the best, she had lied about why she thought that.

Casey was convinced Derek had married for the wrong reasons, although she wasn't sure what the reasons were.

.

They finished eating, and she started to clear.

"What are you doing today?" Casey asked as she started to run hot water into the sink.

"I do have a dishwasher you know." He said, irritated.

She waved away his complaint. "I'll ruin your frying pan if I stick that in the dishwasher. And answer my question."

"I'm doing nothing today. The management have given me three days off as compassionate leave, and everywhere I go I get chased by paps." He frowned suddenly. "Did you come in through the front entrance?"

"I came in through the only entrance I know anything about." She replied haughtily.

"Fuck!"

"What?"

"I don't suppose any guys with long lenses were hanging around outside." He spoke as if to a child. Casey refused to rise to the provocation.

She shrugged. "Oh _them_! It's okay. I wore a scarf over my head and kept my head down."

Derek hissed. "Great!"

"What?"

In answer to her question, Derek reached over and flicked the kitchen television on to CNN. Derek's face was once again filling the screen, a ticker across the bottom of the screen stating Derek and Chloe were "married" two years ago but that his spokesman had confirmed that Derek was taking legal action against his "wife" to reclaim all monies and assets gifted to her on their connection on the grounds of bigamy. The commentary was all about Derek's retreat from public gaze - and the attractive mystery woman who had been seen entering his mansion.

"Whoops!" Casey said, but she looked amused.

"Whoops indeed. I hope you like being chased around town by photographers because as soon as you leave here, they'll pounce."

"It's okay." Casey stated. "I brought spare clothes. I'll just stay here for a day or two."  
"Over my fucking dead body."

"Derek. You have nothing in your freezer, you're overdue a restock. Besides, hiding away in your home is not healthy. You need to get out and see people, show them that you can deal with this."  
"And what if I can't deal with this?"  
"You loved her that much?"  
Derek didn't answer.

Casey, meanwhile, had nearly finished washing up the few breakfast items. She stacked them on the side and then made for the freezer to restack the tubs of ice cream and bags of fries which were the only sustenance left.

"Hmm…Spaghetti Bolognese, I think. A lasagne or two, casseroles, pies. Definitely got my work cut out for me. Good job I did a big shop. Close the door on your way out."

.

At lunch time, when his irritation at being invaded by the step-sister from hell receded in the face once again of hunger, he made his way to the kitchen. The house had been full of amazing smells all morning, and he wondered what fantastic offering she would produce for lunch.

"I've been busy Derek, but there's a sandwich in the fridge."

"Can't I have something hot?"  
"No. I need the kitchen."

There was no moving her. So he made his way to the fridge.

Inside, was a large plate with a huge French baguette sandwich, filled with all his favourite sandwich fillings.

"There's potato chips on the side." Casey said over her shoulder as she mashed potatoes to top what looked like a very British, but incredibly tasty Shepherd's Pie.

Maybe having Casey around wasn't going to be so bad after all.

* * *

He remembered to switch his cell phone back on as he retreated to the den with his sandwich. It rang almost immediately.

"Who is she?"

"Good afternoon to you too, Tim." Derek replied, his humour restored by the sight of one of Casey's large sandwiches waiting for him.

"Who is she, damnit?" Derek's agent pushed.

"It's Casey."  
"Your step-sister? I thought you and her weren't talking."

"Casey and I don't talk. We just fight. She decided it had been too long since we last had a good punch up."

"She's all over the media."  
"I know. And it's going to get worse. She's decided to stay over night."

"Der-ek!"

"I know. Believe me. The trouble is, I know Casey and nothing I say will budge her."

Tim sighed. "We need to make a statement to the effect that she's your sister come to offer you support in these trying times. Get the pressure off before everyone thinks you're using the bigamy thing as a reason to get out of a divorce because you're seeing someone else."  
"She's my step-sister, Tim, not my sister."

"Same difference."

"No it isn't."  
"In the eyes of Joe Public it is."  
Derek cringed. In that case, he sincerely hoped that the revelations were done and dusted, because he wasn't ready for Joe Public to _know_ about Casey.

"Can't you tell them she's my masseuse or something?"

"And that's better?"

"I don't want Casey dragged into this."

"Derek. She's a relative. She has a legitimate reason to be there."  
"Believe me Tim _we_ don't want Casey dragged into this."

"Why not?"

Derek was quiet. He couldn't work out how to phrase the words, so he didn't.

Tim tried to fill in the blanks.

"Are there things we don't want to come out?" he asked, carefully.

Derek sighed. "It's not cut and dried." Was all he allowed himself.

"Do you and Casey have a _history_?"

More silence.

Tim shifted paper around on his desk. "Leave it with me. I'll think of something."

"Good. Because I'm just about to tuck into a seriously good sandwich and I don't want anything to impede my enjoyment of it."

"Sandwich?"

"Casey's one hell of a cook."

"Oh."

.

Derek thought maybe he should kill Tim. At least if he did it, he could guarantee it would be quick and painless. Casey might prolong the agony…at least she would if she saw the news bulletin.

Tim had released a statement to the effect that Casey was Derek's new cook.

* * *

Casey had called Derek into dinner. He could smell spaghetti Bolognese and garlic bread. He could almost taste it on the air of his dining room.

Just as he was about tuck into the feast laid before him, his cell phone rang. Casey frowned.

"Sorry." Derek said and answered it without looking to see who the caller was.

"Dee-Dee." A voice simpered. "Darling, we need to talk _so_ badly."

"Like fuck we do Chloe."

Casey's eyes darted up.

The "wife".

"Dee-Dee. Please. It was a mistake. I got swept along in the moment. I just missed a teeny bit of paperwork out."

"The massive bit of paperwork that dissolved your marriage you mean?" Derek answered.

Casey sniggered into her dinner. Derek rolled his eyes at her.

"Dee. Baby…"

"Chloe. This is tired news. I haven't the energy. I'll pack up your stuff and send Simon to drop it off at your hotel. It's over. Okay?"  
"No!"

"Yes, Chloe. It is. And the funny thing is, maybe this is for the better. I mean. At least we never had kids."

Casey choked on the glass of wine she had just started to sip. Derek grinned at her as he hung up.

"What?" He muttered innocently, as he grabbed some garlic bread.

"Nothing." Casey said, smiling into her glass.

* * *

**AN: My broadband connection is playing up. I'm currently getting an internet connection for about an hour a day... I'm hoping this is going to resolve itself because until this week it was fantastic. However, don't hold your breath. (I've spent most of my "writing" time this past week trying to fix it - as I keep reminding everyone I have a degree in this stuff.) Paul (husband) has ordered a major upgrade but that won't be until July!**

**In other ways, you'll get an update when you get an update. Check my sezcpl fan page on facebook because I can update that using my blackberry.**

**Sarah X**


	3. Catching Up

They caught up over dinner, talking about things other than the fact that his marriage had just broken down or that they hadn't seen each other in two years. Derek told her about the stuff that hadn't made it into the paper and gossip magazines, Casey told him a few bits of news about her writing and the dancing she taught on the side. She had opted to live in Toronto the same as Derek and in reality they lived only fifteen miles apart. There really was no excuse for the fact they hadn't seen each other.

Except for the obvious.

.

Casey's third novel was about to be published and she was feeling a sense of relief about the whole process. The first novel, ideas had fallen onto the page like rain in a storm. The second, more aware of what made a decent novel and what didn't work, the ideas came less easily but she was more confident that what she wrote would be liked. For the third novel, it had been like getting blood from a stone and she had spent long days and nights writing page after page only to hit the delete button on her laptop at 11:59pm the same night.

But finally, the novel had survived the editing process – hers and the publisher's, and they were now onto the more glamorous side of writing, the choosing of artwork and publicity photos. Casey was no stranger to the limelight, but the life of a novelist was less newsworthy than that of arguably the most famous hockey player in the world.

At least, it had been until today. Somehow, Derek thought, it wouldn't take the photographers long to find out that Casey was Casey McDonald the novelist and Derek's step-sister.

"You think they are going to follow me?" Casey said as they took their coffees through to the den.

Derek chuckled. "Remember when you turned up at the Booker award ceremony? All the flashy lights and catcalls? That was nothing to a morning trip to the grocery store."

"Oh." Casey said.

Derek folded himself into his favourite part of the couch and smirked. "Yeah…oh. Still, I'm sure you'll cope. Just do me a favour. Stop covering your head and making it look as though you have something to hide or they'll start to thinking we're sleeping together."

Casey glanced at him as he said that, and noted his eyes were watching her carefully. She coughed and looked away.

"Do you mind if we don't put the news on?" He said quietly changing the subject. "I'd rather not see my ex-wife's face for a while."

"Let's watch a movie. What are you in the mood for?" Casey asked falsely bright. Derek shrugged, mentally applauding himself for not answering that truthfully.

"Something where an ex-wife gets murdered in a gory manner?"

The girl beside him on the couch grinned.

"So no Rom-coms then?"

"Remind me again why I haven't chucked you out."

"Because, fighting with me takes your mind off everything else."

"Okay. Pick a fight." He turned towards her expectantly. "What shall we do? My man-whoring ways or your criminal taste in men?"  
She smiled. "Since you've been monogamous for the past two years and I've not dated anyone in a very long time that would be a very short argument."

"How do you know I've been monogamous?"

"Because, dear brother, you actually believe in the sanctity of marriage." Casey explained.

"Sanctity nothing. Chloe would have had my balls if I'd strayed."

"See. I told you. Sanctity." Casey was smug.

"So exactly how long has it been since the last loser?" Derek asked, resting his elbow against the back of the couch and then his head on his hand."

"None of your business."

"That long huh? When was the last time you had sex, Casey?"

"_Absolutely_ none of your business."

"What? No one-night stands?"

"Derek…" Casey warned.

"I forgot. Casey McDonald doesn't do one-night stands. Sex is part of _her _idea of the sanctity of marriage…" he raised his eyebrows at her. "…or not."

There was a pause as they both registered the shift in topic. It had landed them in dangerous territory. Casey and Derek talking about sex was dangerous in so many ways.

"Are we seriously going to have this conversation?" She asked, looking at him with apprehension. He met her gaze for a long minute.

Derek looked away. "Nah. Too much water under the bridge." He said, and she thought for a second there was a hint of regret.

Casey shook herself. He was probably only thinking about his marriage.

Whatever he was thinking of, he disliked the way her whole body relaxed when she realised they weren't going to re-visit _their_ past.

They picked a pay movie and sprawled out on the couch to watch it. Casey produced popcorn from some where and Derek was pleased to see that it was plain. He had no intention of waking up in a sticky mess again.

Much later on as the movie was in full swing, he glanced across the short distance between them. It wasn't just the absence of the sticky popcorn mess, today had been better for him than last night – period; better for him than getting drunk with Sam, calling Ralph back and asking for his cousin's phone number or watching Ed fawn over his own wife.

Sitting here on the sofa with Casey was the best Derek had felt in a long time.

It was funny how Casey always appeared when life was at its most shit, and, despite what he said and did, somehow it felt less shit by the time she had gone.

* * *

"I'm not sleeping in your bedroom, Derek."

"I know. This isn't my bedroom."

Casey gave him a look that was sleepy and accusatory at the same time.

"It's the master bedroom Derek. I do remember, you know."

Her step-brother shrugged. "Yeah well, Chloe didn't like the view from this room. She said it was too close to the gardens and filled the room with bugs, so she had us move into the guest room down the hall."

"But this is the nicest room in the entire house!"

Derek hid a smile. Personally, he preferred this room too, but he wasn't about to say that.

"If it's the nicest room in the house then you won't mind sleeping here." He said, with the infuriating smugness that got on her nerves.

"Fine!" She sniffed in a huff. "Now go away and let me sleep."  
Derek leaned against the doorway and smirked.

"What?" She asked, defensively.

"I missed you." He said honestly, and slung an arm around her shoulders, forcing her to move closer into him. "Thanks…for not trying to make it better with alcohol or stupid words of wisdom, or even worse the phone number of your single friend."

Casey chuckled and settled back against him. "Anyone with half a brain knows the only way to get through to you is through your stomach. I just thought you'd feel better if I fed you."  
"Well I do. So thank you." He kissed her temple and paused. "But this doesn't give you the right to start interfering. I'm still having words with Security about letting you in."

"I've got two words for you, Derek…Chicken Casserole. It works on security details too!"

As the door closed on his step-sister, and one phase of his past, Derek was suddenly hopeful about the future again.

* * *

"Where's the bacon?" He asked, coming into the kitchen the following morning dressed but still towelling his hair.

"Ew! Der-ek! That's unhygienic! Get rid of the towel!" She protested. He rolled his eyes and chucked the towel into the adjacent laundry room, moving back to pester her as she chopped onions.

"I need breakfast." He complained.

"And this affects me because…?" She asked. He pouted.

"What happened to you healing me through my stomach?" he moaned.

Casey laughed. "There's pain au chocolat in the oven." She said, relenting and then when she saw the confusion on Derek's face, elaborated. "Chocolate croissants." Casey used the correct pronunciation.

Derek's eyes lit up. "Okay. I'll forgive you the lack of meat. What are you cooking?" He moved to the oven and using the mittens removed the hot tray containing his breakfast.

"Coq au Vin." She paused. "Chicken…"

"In wine, yeah…I can speak some French you know." He placed his plate on the breakfast bar and sat down. "What's with all the French cuisine?"  
The beauty in front of him shrugged. "Coincidence. Did you sleep well?"

"Better, thanks. You?"  
"Eventually." She said, distractedly.

"Why only eventually?"

"Too many memories." She said truthfully. "The room."

Derek stopped his hand mid-way to his mouth. "Sorry." He said honestly.

"It was a long time ago." She said wistfully, her voice breaking slightly and for the first time, Derek wondered if she was really as detached about the events of that time as she had made out. He stood up and crossed the floor to her, sliding his arms around her when he reached her side.

"I'm sorry." He said. "It should…"

"Don't Derek. I don't want to talk about it." Casey pulled away. "We made decisions. Stupid, immature decisions." Her voice trailed away at the end as though there was no conviction in her words.

Derek wondered if he was interpreting things too much…Wishful thinking was a bad move. He coughed and stepped away, back to his breakfast.

"What are you going to do today?" He asked.

"More of the same." She said. "And then I thought I'd go and have a wander round and see if Sheila listened the last time I spoke to her about under the beds."

"What about under the beds?" Derek sounded amused.

Casey sighed and shook her head. "The dust…seriously. It's a relief you don't have a dust allergy, the state she keeps this place in. I've had to talk to her several times about it."  
Derek raised an eyebrow. "Let me get this straight. Not only have you been sneaking in here to load my freezer up with food for the past two years, but you've also been haranguing the cleaning staff about dust bunnies?"

His step-sister had the decency to look abashed. "I'm sorry. It's just you know me and cleaning."  
Yes. He did. He remembered how Casey thought it was therapeutic to clean just before exams and during times of stress. Evidently, these days she didn't clean herself, just press-ganged the domestics into achieving her high standards. Then he looked down at her jeans and recognised they were of the "planning on doing manual tasks" variety that he was used to seeing her in. Maybe, she would be getting down and dirty too.

"My wife is supposed to be in charge of running the house, Casey." Then he remembered that he didn't have a wife.

Casey watched as the realisation hit. "Exactly!" She announced cheerfully. "Supposed to, but she wasn't…and now you don't have a wife."

"I appreciate we all know differently now, but you've been doing this for the past two years, Casey most of which we all thought I did have a wife. Jeez! Thank god you never bumped into Chloe. That would have been a catfight in hell. You two hated each other."

Casey was silent for a moment. Derek glanced up. "Why do I get the feeling there is something you aren't telling me?" He asked.

She moved away from the hob and started chopping vegetables. "We did bump into each other, once."

"Did she throw you out?"

"Not exactly."

Derek pushed his empty plate away from him. "Give, McDonald. What happened?"  
"She laughed at me."

"She what?"

"She laughed at me." Deep breath. "She said I was a sad bitch who couldn't tell when the object of her affections was obsessed with someone else. She said it was time I grew a pair, went out and found a husband of my own rather than following hers around like a drooling puppy dog. Apparently, she felt – I quote- "sorry" for me because I would never know what it was like to be kissed by you, to be loved by you to be made love to by you. Then she proceeded to list all the amazing skills you had in the bedroom."

Derek looked stunned. "What did you say?"

Casey snorted, but she had to lay down the vegetable knife because her hands were shaking so much. She moved to the sink and began to wash up where her hands were hidden from his view and he couldn't see the tremors.

"I thanked her for making me want to re-visit my lunch and asked her when my _brother_ was coming home."


	4. The World Freak Show

"Hey Betty! Give us a smile and a taste of your cookies!"

Casey groaned. The young guy of about twenty three was pointing a ridiculously large camera lens at her as she made her way back to the parking lot and her car. She wondered if the size of his camera equipment was inversely proportional to the size of his manhood. He muttered some disgusting comment to his fellow photographers with a shared laugh and she decided he was definitely small in the underpants department.

But, Casey _said_ nothing. She had been through enough PR sessions with her publishers to know when not to make a wiseass comment.

She pushed forward, her hands gripping the shopping carriers firmly, wishing she had ignored Derek and worn the headscarf and dark glasses.

Why on earth did he think that simple precautions like that were going to make the paparazzi suspicious?

It wasn't until she was firmly installed in her car, the doors locked and her wheels squealing as she pulled away that it occurred to her to wonder why the guy with the camera had called her Betty.

Derek was in the house gym when she got back. Casey unloaded the shopping and, finding the pack of adhesive tape he had asked her to pick up from the store she wandered through to hand it over. The little gym was in a small outhouse which connected with the house by a short hallway. It was equipped with the sorts of weights and treadmills which would work on the muscle groups necessary for professional hockey players. When he wasn't training with his team, Derek spent a lot of time in this room. Here and in the indoor pool it connected to. Casey remembered the smile on his face, three years ago, when he had told her he finally had his own pool – and could stop sneaking over the Davies' fence.

When she left the kitchen and made for the gym, Casey's only aim was to give Derek the tape. Spotting him sitting with his back to her as she entered the room, however, she stopped and watched him for a moment.

He wasn't as scrawny as he had been when she first met him. She grinned. Correction: Scrappy, not scrawny. As his standard of hockey had risen so had the inevitable physique which came with it. By the time he had been scouted from college, all his muscles were toned and firm – but not excessively. He looked like an athlete, and she knew because she had been around through his development that it had all come from hard work and not steroids.

Right now, he was sitting in sweatpants and nothing else pulling a weight bar up and down. Age and the opportunity for vacations in hot places had given his skin a slight tan which looked good on him. She could see the ripple as his muscles took the strain of the weight, and the light covering of sweat which sprung up, although he made the whole act look easy – effortless. Casey watched a bead of moisture run down the groove of his back and her fingers itched to trap it and brush it away, the way she had one time when her hands had spanned his straining muscles. She remembered the heat from him above her and the feeling of unity between their bodies.

"You know it's one thing to get ogled in the rink, quite another to get ogled in my own home." Derek's voice broke across her thoughts.

"I thought you were supposed to be pumping iron, Derek. Not your own ego." Casey snapped herself out of the trance she had sunken into. He smirked.

"Where were you?" He asked amused but his voice was quiet.

"Wal-mart, I told you."

"I didn't mean earlier, I meant a moment ago. You were in a world of your own."

Casey sniffed. "I realised that I haven't been in here to inspect Sheila's work." She lied.

"Ah!" Derek seemed enlightened. "That would explain the look of ecstasy on your face…you found more of my dirt to wallow in."

Casey frowned. "I'm going nowhere near your dirt, Derek."

"I meant a dirty part of my home that you hadn't got your mitts on."

"I know what you meant." She said with a huff and stepped forward to give him the tape.

"How was Wal-mart?" He inquired continuing with his lifting.

"Fine…empty even."

"Really?"

"Yeah. They had to close the store until I'd done because there were so many paparazzi following me. It caused a hazard."

He chuckled in the warm way she loved. "I warned you."

Casey pulled herself together. "I still don't understand why I couldn't wear the headscarf combo. There was this one guy there who kept calling me Betty for some reason."

Derek's eyes widened. "Oh?"  
"Do you think he thinks I'm ugly?"

.

Things were good between them; better than they had been in years. He was reminded of the playful banter between them in that crucial time between school and his decision to marry Chloe. He was reminded of the time they were friends, and when she left him to return to the kitchen, he let his mind drift to thoughts of the few moments when they were at their closest physically and emotionally. It was a pleasant place to be and Derek wondered if she ever thought about him the way he thought about her. The way he remembered her, clinging to him in a way he would never tire of.

He heard a cell ring in another part of the house and braced himself for Casey's reappearance telling him he needed to face the real world.

But it never came.

* * *

The ringing phone was Casey's own silver cell phone, tucked in her back pocket from when she was shopping. It jarred with her in more ways than just the ring tone. Casey had lived the last couple of days without reference to her own life. Though they had discussed her life, she had not thought about it. She was not Casey McDonald, author. She was Casey, step-sister…and more.

Jerked out of the faux life she was leading, Casey pulled the tiny phone from her pocket and answered it.

"Hi Ange!" She said cheerily. Caller display had told her it was her agent and close friend, Angela. "What can I do for you?"  
"Well for a start, you can tell me why I have to find out that you are all over the internet from my twelve year old cousin."

"I'm sorry?" Casey was confused.

"I quote: "The mysterious brunette who has provided the third ring for the media sensation which is the current Venturi circus has finally been identified! It is none other than award-winning author Casey McDonald who according to Derek Venturi's representatives has shelved (no pun intended) book-writing to take on a new role as cook to the hockey god! A strange combination, and they insist it is a purely professional arrangement, but lord knows the way to a man's heart (slash money slash manhood) is through his stomach. This journo can't help wondering if the tasty authoress is going to be showing DV her Coq au Vin tonight…"" There was a pause. "Do you have something to tell me?"

"They said _what?_" Casey gasped. "Oh god!"

"I could have done with a heads up on this Case."

"I didn't know." She said, trying to stay calm. "Where did they get this stuff?"

Angela sighed. "Where are you Casey?"

"At Derek's."

"Why?"

"His marriage is over, I'm making sure he isn't about to slit his wrists."

"Is that likely? He never seemed particularly into her in my opinion." Angela stated. Casey loved her friend for being the one person who didn't buy the media hype. Her pleasure faded. "Read that bit about Derek's representatives again…"

* * *

The door to the gym banged opened. Derek dropped the weight he was holding in surprise.

"You told them I was your _cook_!" Casey shouted at him. Derek winced and not just because the weight had landed on his little finger.

"No. My agent did. We needed a reason for you being here and I mentioned you were cooking meals for me."

"A _cook_!"

Derek shrugged. "Not me, Case. Tim."

"Why?" She frowned in confusion. "Why not just say I was your step-sister?"

"You know why."  
"No…I don't."

Derek took a deep breath.

"Because if we release a statement saying that you're my step-sister, it will take the pressure off, but it won't stop the press digging. I mean, you don't exactly behave like a sister and…"

"And?"  
"Casey. If they dig long and hard enough they'll find something. About you…about us."

She bristled. "There's nothing to find." She stated firmly.  
Derek looked at her incredulously, unsure whether she was lying or in denial.

"You seriously blanked that out?" he asked. There was no need to elaborate on what "_that_" he meant.

Casey looked abashed - and something else. "No."

Then her eyes rose to his defiantly, and he saw for the first time the determined look as she lied to him.

"There's nothing to find, Derek."

He stared at her.

"I mean, I told no one." She clarified. He relaxed slightly and sighed. She wasn't lying, just struggling with the truth – the way he was.

"Me either. Doesn't mean that they won't find something, even if it is just a hint. And you can't lie for fucking toffee."

"If it's important enough I can." She retorted.

"Yeah well. Excuse me if I'd rather not take the chance. I have no desire to be branded a freak by the media." _Open mouth insert foot, Derek._

Casey's breath caught. "A freak?"

Derek realised his words could be taken two ways - she had taken it the wrong way.

"A freak? That's what you think you are because of…" she shrieked. For a long moment they stood frozen. Casey in disbelief that he had uttered the words, Derek unsure of how to take them back and make her understand. It wasn't that he thought he was a freak – that they were freaks. He just didn't want their relationship to be described that way in the press.

He took too long.

"Fuck you Derek Venturi!"

She stormed towards the door.

"Casey, listen."  
"No. _You_ listen. I know what you think of me now. I thought we were mature and comfortable in our…relationship; that we could do the…step-sibling thing. I _thought_ that we had moved on…grown up. I thought that I could help you deal with the whole Chloe crap. Evidently, I thought too much of you. You can't do this. You aren't grown up. You're a stupid, immature school boy Derek and I can't stand to be in the same room as you."

"Casey…"

"No Derek. You can tell Tim to relax. I'm going and I won't be back. In fact, if I never see you again, it will be too soon. And don't worry. _It_ never happened."  
"Case."

But the door slammed and she was gone.

Derek ran after her, but she must have left her car out the front, because by the time he reached the front door, all that was visible were the tail-lights as they moved down the drive.

Derek slumped against the wall of his house, drained.

He couldn't blame her, because his words had been wrong. He had said something he didn't mean. Or rather, he meant it, but he hadn't been clear enough in his meaning to stop her thinking the worst.

He could understand why she ran. He had used the term 'freak' and he would have done the same had he heard someone else describe their past in those terms.

_Their_ past.

Crouched on his threshold, he ran his fingers through his hair as he watched the bright reflection of flashbulbs from the gates to his home. When the flashing stopped he knew she was gone.

Two years he had waited to see her again, and just when he thought she was back in his life – hopefully for good - she disappeared again.


	5. Spiralling Down

"Welcome back Venturi! Mind in gear, I hope? Ready for some serious training?"

Derek took a deep breath and hoped he looked better than he felt. He needed to be here this morning because his career depended on it, but the reality was he was far from ready to be under the pressure he knew was coming. He had been out of it for nearly a week and both the team and the media were screaming for a piece of him. He felt he had nothing to give.

"Gonna try, Coach."

"Try not. Do. Or fail." The Coach misquoted in a bad attempt at a Yoda impression. Derek grimaced and made his way to his area in the locker room.

It was more than three days since Casey had left and he had heard nothing from her. He had tried every one of the numbers he had ever had for her and she was answering none of them. He had yet to contact Nora because he didn't want to admit he had upset her. Even at thirty one, his step-mother would still kick butt if she knew he had hurt his step-sister this badly. Derek was sure there would be little of him left if Nora ever found out about the past he shared with Casey. His only consolation was he wouldn't go down alone.

He had been early to the training session. None of the rest of the team had made it to the rink yet, that much had been evident from the lack of expensive cars in the parking lot and by the poor collection of paps at the gate. He had run the gauntlet as he left his house, but it was fairly quiet as he turned into the player's parking lot. Just a few flashes and he noted with grim amusement that the couple of pressmen who were there hurriedly pulled out cells as soon as the opportunity for decent photo shots had passed. He made a mental note to be early more often.

Coverage of his split from Chloe was still big news, but it was more for the fact he was back on the eligible bachelor list rather than because there was anything of a story. Chloe, he wasn't surprised to see when he could be bothered to switch on the TV, was appearing on cable show after cable show airing her point of view. In reply to all the crap she spouted, the interviewers were forced to read a solitary statement from Derek's management.

"Derek Venturi regrets that he is unable to provide interviews in response to his "wife's" story as due to the fact that bigamy is still illegal in Canada, he does not _have_ a wife."

Derek had congratulated Tim on that one: nice, concise and to the point. It went a long way to explaining how Derek felt about Chloe.

He didn't.

The other players started to file into the room just as he finished changing and the long round of back-slapping and commiserations began. Derek took all of it in uncharacteristically quietly nodding at banal comments which meant nothing to either the speaker or the recipient. It was all water under the bridge.

As they were called to begin the training, he stood up with some effort and followed the others. The lethargy of the past few days was still there and he wondered how he was going to function on the ice.

The answer was he didn't. Three hours later, and with the "understanding" words of his team mates and less understanding words of his coach still ringing in his ears, he stormed out of the practice, threw himself into his car and drove home, not even noticing the cameras or reporters for a change.

Back at home he took himself off to the gym to try and work out his frustration at his lack of skill on the weights and other cold hard metal gym equipment. He told himself that it was a good job he was alone right now. The angry fog which surrounded him made him blind to telling the difference between what was warm and breathing and that which was cold and static.

Eventually, he gave up knowing that it was useless to try and work out of his system what he could not work out of his system. He hoped time would heal.

* * *

Things didn't improve.

"Your form is abysmal Venturi. I've made allowances for…recent events, but you need to seriously pull your game out of the crapper or your career is toast, man."

"Yes Coach." Derek knew the older man was telling the truth. He was as sick with himself as anyone else was.

It had been five weeks since the revelations that had ripped his world apart – or rather the careful façade he had built up over the past two years. Five weeks since the revelations of Chloe's past.

Since then he had been visited by just about every single person he had ever met in his life and listened to the same condolences repeated ad nauseum. He was past caring. Chloe had tried to resurrect their relationship but she was now getting the message that it was over. He hadn't spoken to her since that phone conversation he had endured at the dinner table with Casey, but there had been emails from her (initially ignored and then replied to by his lawyers), texts (always deleted) and strangely at one point _flowers_. Derek didn't understand that approach, and whatever it had aimed to achieve, he had had his housekeeper, Rita, gather the arrangements up and take them to the geriatric wards of a local community hospital to be seen by people who appreciated them.

Because Derek did not.

The press were not letting up on the relationship or the "Chloe replacement" angle. He knew Casey was getting hounded because there had been talk of a scuffle at some publicity event she had attended. Part of him was relieved because at least he knew she was still alive. There had been no other sign from her, and certainly no communication.

Occasionally, if he was feeling really masochistic he would google "Derek Venturi and Casey McDonald". It never failed to amaze him how they manage to drag out photos of him and his step-sister. They implied they were recent images of them attending high profile events but they were all before she was famous, and when fame was still new to him.

Sometimes he smiled at the pictures, remembering some of the things said behind the scenes or liking the outfits she was wearing or smirking at an accompanying prank which he had pulled. A couple of times, he anonymously ordered prints of the pictures from the relevant newspaper's archive.

He hadn't heard from Casey in a month. He had tried phoning, emailing but everything was met with a blank wall. The phone had been disconnected, the email address disabled. Even Nora wouldn't give him a contact for her.

"Casey is a bit upset at the moment, Derek. I've agreed to give her some space. I suggest you do too. You of all people should know what it feels like to go through a personal crisis."

"I do Nora. It's just…please? I really need to talk to her."  
"No you don't. Casey is upset and talking to you will make it worse. Leave her alone."

And he was forced to do just that.

The trouble was, he really regretted what he had said. He hadn't meant it at all. It had been a stupid comment in the heat of the moment.

And she had gone.

* * *

It wasn't just Derek's performance on the ice which had deteriorated. It was his temper too. Prior to his breakdown, it had been rare for Derek to be reprimanded for dirty play on the ice. He could count on one hand the number of times he had been fined for his behaviour. Just recently, he was getting into trouble every game and he had been warned by the referees and the coach that it was only a matter of time before he faced serious disciplinary action.

He left that meeting feeling lower than ever. He knew they were right. He knew it was his fault, but he couldn't stop the build up of anger when the opposition and sometimes even his own team started in on the Betty Crocker jokes or asking for his cook's phone number.

Fortunately, no one on the team seemed to have made the connection between this Casey and the girl from his early career. He had been part of another team when it had been Casey accompanying him to press events. Innocent though their association had been, like most of the girls who accompanied rising sports stars, her name and face had soon been forgotten.

So for the sake of his career and the team's image, Derek was placed on leave for a month. The official story was that he had picked up an injury at his last outing – which was sort of true, but it didn't take a month to heal a black eye.

Coach made it clear that at the end of that month if things hadn't changed Derek needn't bother to come back.

* * *

The door to the bar opened letting in the bright sunshine for a moment and then cutting it off again as the door slammed shut. Derek didn't look up. It was quiet enough that he heard the footsteps on the wooden floor, and he knew who it was who had entered, but he didn't acknowledge their presence.

"What can I get ya?" The barman asked the newcomer.

"Peroni. In the bottle." The familiar voice said, unusually serious. "And a large water for this jerk."

Derek glanced up. "Nice." He said, grimly shaking his head at his father.

"You're a mess, son." George Venturi stated. "The only reason you haven't got half of the nation's press in here right now is because the only people who'd recognise you are your mother, me and maybe Casey."

Derek flinched at her name. "Do you think we could possibly have a conversation that doesn't involve her name?"

George chuckled. "Knowing you, probably not."

His son sighed. "Have you heard from her?"

His father nodded. "She's in Europe on a book tour." He sipped his beer. "You'd better thank your lucky stars for that. If she could see you right now you'd be dragged back to your house by the ridiculously long hair you've manage to grow there."

"I doubt it. She's not talking to me."

"So what's new? There's always something you've done to pee her off. How long was it last time? Two years? It's only been a month."

"This is different." Derek stated. He picked up his empty whiskey glass and tipped it to one side looking for extra drops. When he found none, he sighed and picked up the large glass of water the barman had placed in front of him. He took a mouthful and winced.

"This time it's for good." Derek finished.

George paused and eyed his eldest child. "What did you do?"

"I hurt her. It was accidental – a slip of the tongue and I want more than anything to take it back."

"So why don't you?"

"Because I can't get hold of her. But also because I think that even the fact that I unconsciously made the comment is enough to make her severe all ties, Dad."

There was a significant pause.

"Seriously?"  
"Seriously."

"Why do I get the feeling there's a whole lot of stuff neither of you are telling me?"  
Derek shrugged but didn't reply.

"Derek? The state you're in right now…it hasn't got anything to do with Chloe has it?"

"Nope. Chloe going was a relief."

"This is all Casey?"

"Always has been."

George picked up the beer and swigged it again. "Wanna talk about it?"

Derek snorted. "Dad. You know sometimes there are things you learn you later wish you'd stuck your fingers in your ears for? Well, that would be one of those things. Save yourself the bleeding ears."

"I can listen. I'm getting good at it. Yesterday, I sat and listened to Ed on the phone for two hours trying to convince himself and me that his wife isn't having an affair. And it was me who went and picked up Lizzie from that trailer park in Utah last year when her boyfriend decided he wanted join the cult. (I have to say that might possibly have been the longest most depressing return road trip of my life.) All in all, I'm just waiting for Marti to call me to say that her lesbian lover is refusing to let her have IVF for a baby."

Derek's eyes bugged out of his head. "Marti's _what_?"

George put a hand up. "Relax. I'm joking. To the best of my knowledge Marti is working her way through the _male_ population of NYU and has no intention of having a baby any time soon."

"What do you mean "working her way through the male population"?" Derek's voice sounded ominous.

His father laughed. "I love you son, you're more protective than me! I just meant she's behaving like most normal college girls away from home. And we both know you gave her a long lecture before she left. But, your concern for your sisters does you credit."

"Please tell me you aren't lumping Casey in there." Derek requested bitterly.

George narrowed his eyes as ideas began to form in his head.

"You know, I think you're right. Maybe listening to this _would_ make my ears bleed."

Derek tilted his head and the water glass in his hand letting the latter clink against George's beer bottle.

"Here's to the fucked up world of the McDonald-Venturis!" He said dramatically. "Abandon hope all ye who enter here."


	6. Twelve Years Ago

**Twelve years Ago**

"She's not coming." George announced as he came down the stairs sluggishly.

"She's what!" Nora whisper-screeched wanting to scream but also not wanting to deal with the consequences of waking the baby who had finally drifted off to sleep an hour ago after bawling for most of the night. "She _has_ to go."

"Technically she doesn't." Derek interjected with a smirk. He rubbed his hands together gleefully. "Right. Let's be off then. I want to get there early so that I can ditch whatever room assignment they've given me and get somewhere decent." He started to move towards the front door.

George stretched a hand out and caught his eldest by the scruff of the neck.

"Not so fast, sunshine. You are not going to abandon your sister in her hour of need."

Derek tilted his head to one side thoughtfully.

"Yes…I am." He said eventually and angled his body towards the door again. "Ok, I suggest I lead the way and you follow – my sense of direction is better than yours. Frankly, my everything is better than yours, but who's quibbling?"

George regarded his son carefully and then let go of his t-shirt. "Okay."

Nora glared at her husband. George winked - and waited as Derek made for the front door and opened it. He paused for a second and then shut it again, turning back to his father.

"Looking for these?" George Venturi asked, waving a set of car keys in the air. Nora hid a smile. "If you want them I suggest you find a way to get Casey out of her "Slough of Despond" and into the car."

Derek pulled a face. "Her _what?_"

George shrugged. "Her words not mine."

"Casey's been reading Pilgrim's Progress as a little light reading from her pre-college book list." Nora explained. "Please Derek. If I have to go up there it will take an hour of cajoling. If you go up there she'll be down in five minutes."  
"If she doesn't want to go, she doesn't want to go." Derek pointed out. "I'm all for letting Casey do what she wants."

"That would be a first." Lizzie chipped in from the sofa.

Her mother sighed. "She wants to go. She's just nervous and getting dumped last week didn't help matters."

"Hey! She wasn't the only one who found themselves unexpectedly single last week." Derek complained.

"Derek I hardly think you dumping that poor girl because you saw a picture of the woman's ice hockey team at Queens equates to quite the same thing as Casey getting unceremoniously dumped because someone told her boyfriend she looked a bit "hip-y".

Derek's eyes widened in amusement and Nora realised she had just let slip something she had promised Casey she wouldn't repeat.

"Promise me you won't use that comment against her."

"Give me some credit Nora. _I'm_ not that _big_ an _ass_."

"Der-ek!" George barked. "Go up there and persuade Casey she wants to go to university or I'll stop the check for your car insurance."

"You wouldn't. I need that car."

George looked pointedly at him. "Now, Derek."

Muttering, Derek charged up the stairs two at a time and then they heard him stomp across the landing to Casey's room.

He entered without knocking because he knew it would piss her off.

"For someone who's planning on staying here, you look very dressed at five am in the morning." He observed nodding towards her carefully chosen outfit and painted nails. It had taken her three days to decide on the right nail colour for her first day at college and her hands had been shaking so much it had taken three goes before she was satisfied with the result.

"Go away Derek."

He leant against the door frame. "I tried to. Dad confiscated my car keys to make me come up here and bully you. So until you haul ass down stairs and get in the car you're stuck with me."

"I'm not going. You should be pleased."  
"Oh I am, believe me. The parentals…not so impressed."

"They'll come around."

"I know. I mean after all, I'm sure the employee discount you'll get working at Wal-mart for the rest of your life will come in handy for the family food bill."

"I'm not going to work in Wal-mart I'm going to go to a college nearer home. One where I know some people. Maybe I'll follow Emily to Toronto or Sam to the States."

"Sure. I mean it's no real different to going to Queens is it? The more the merrier to U of T. Why go somewhere so stuffy as Queens when you can go to more laid back U of T? I mean Queens must be a dive. Only two people from our school opted to go there this year."

He pretended to look thoughtful knowing the fact that Casey was one of only two people who had been _successful_ in their application to Queens was something she was incredibly proud of.

"Whoops! Correction! If you aren't going I guess that means only _one_ person from our school is going to Queens. Who was that again? Oh that would be _me_!" he pointed at his chest.

"What-d-ya know? I'm the only SJST graduate to go to Queens!" Derek smirked.

Casey sat up and glowered at him. "Over my dead body." She hissed.

"Sorry, Case? Was that you saying you're ready to get in the car?"

His step-sister pushed herself off the bed angrily, grabbed her bag and shoved past him and out onto the landing.

"He shoots, he scores!" Derek exclaimed with a fist pump and then turned to follow Casey down the stairs.

* * *

"Oh no. Not in my car." Derek wasn't laughing now as he stood on the sidewalk arms folded. "Get out of the car, Casey. You can ride with Dad."

"Nope. I have no intention of sitting in the car listening to Jazz for hours and hours."

"You like jazz. You dance to jazz all the time."

"That's different."

"How so?"

"I get to choose the music I dance to. I don't in George's car."

"You aren't choosing the music in _my_ car either."

"_Our_ car's radio is broken. I can listen to my ipod."

Derek grimaced and then his face broke into a smile. "But what if Dad gets lost. Most of your stuff is in _his_ car."

"The important stuff is in _our_ car, and George won't get lost."  
"Now you're just being ridiculous. Of course he'll get lost, this is George "What junction was it again?" Venturi."

"Ah. But when he does, we can find him. Edwin fitted that GPS tracker we got him for his birthday. I just google "George Venturi", type in my password and it tells me where he is."

"Seriously? You'd rather endure hours in the car with me rather than dad?" Derek sounded amazed.

Casey grinned. "Who would _you_ rather spend five hours in a car with?"  
Derek frowned and then smiled. "Good point."

There was no time for further arguing as a very tearful Nora threw her arms around him cutting off all speech as she kissed him goodbye.

"Behave yourself, mister."

"Of course Nora. I'll be my usual charming self."

Nora looked panicked. "No please!" She pleaded. Derek looked hurt and she grinned suddenly. "Have fun, son." She said and out of sight of her husband slipped him a fifty dollar bill. "And go easy on Casey."

"Now where's the fun in that?"

* * *

Later as they turned onto the highway, Casey looked up from her ipod. "How much?" She asked curiously.

"How much what?" Derek turned his attention from the road for a second.

"How much slush money did _you_ get from the rents?"

Derek smirked. "$150." He said. "Fifty dollars from each. How about you?"  
"The same. Oh and your mom sent me a really pretty cameo necklace from Florence."

Derek's eyes flicked back to hers again. "Really? So does that mean I should be expecting a catcher's mitt from Dennis?"

"Dream on, buster. She sent it to me because I passed on all that information about Tuscany to her for her trip."

"Yeah. Where did you get all that stuff anyway?"  
"The library, Derek. Remember? Big building with lots of paper things in it."

"I thought that was the bank?"

"Ha ha. Do us all a favour and go back to sleep."

"If it wasn't for me you wouldn't even be in this car."

Casey bit her lip. "I know." She admitted quietly. "Thank you."

"What are you thanking me for? It's going to be like starting a new school all over again. Ready for your first Klutzilla moment?"

His step-sister said nothing, just stared out of the window and he knew he'd over done it again.

"I'm nervous too." He said softly. Casey did a double take.

"You're nervous?" She asked, surprised.

"Yeah. I mean." He backtracked. "What if my good looks cause a riot? What if the rest of the hockey squad are so worried about me showing them up that they refuse to play with me?"

Casey groaned.  
"Next time we move we'll rent a van. It's the only way we'll fit your ego in." she snorted.

Derek smiled to himself.

"There is one reassuring thing about this whole leaving home shit." He said a few minutes later.

"Oh?"

"If we get homesick and all else fails we can always meet up for a big smackdown."

"Sorry was that you saying you wanted to stay in touch with me?" Casey asked incredulously.

Derek shook his head. "Nah. You're right. We'll save the fights for the vacations. It'll give me chance to hone my wit."

"You don't have any wit to hone, Derek. I'd give up if I were you."

Despite himself, Derek turned his eyes to the side briefly and chuckled.

The best thing about Casey McDonald was that she never backed down from a fight…with him at least.

* * *

"Ah yes! The siblings!" The administrative clerk announced. Casey and Derek looked at each other in horror.

"We're not…" Casey started, but the matronly lady behind the desk wasn't listening.

"Normally we don't take a note of familial relationships when we are allocating dorms, but in view of the letter from your father citing the special circumstances and the bond you two have forged to overcome the …" she lowered her voice, coughing slightly. "…PTSD we felt that it was a reasonable request to site you close to each other. Of course, we couldn't put you on the same floor because of our regulations, but you will be just one floor away from each other in the same block. I believe you will even be able to see each other's windows."  
"What letter?" Derek asked, turning his head to look at George who was standing off to one side. "Dad. What letter?" His tone was getting ominous.

"Yes, George. What letter?" Casey sounded tense too.  
George frowned. "I didn't write a letter." He said coming forward.

"I've got it just here." The administrator held up the paper. It was typed, but Casey only had to see the signature to know.

"_Edwin_!" She hissed. "Only he spells "sincerely" with three es."

""Sincerely" has es in it?" Derek asked. Casey looked at him to see if he was joking.

"Yes moron. And it would appear that your _brother_ thinks it is funny to have us stuck together in the same dorm!"

"_My_ brother?" Derek glared at her. "How come this is _my_ fault? He's your brother too, Casey."

"No he isn't. He's my _step-brother_! There's a difference."

"Not from where I'm looking, toots."

"Toots? Toots? What do you think I am, Derek? A vapid bimbo whose IQ is measured in tyre pressures?"

George bit his lip. _Not bad, Casey. Not bad._ Then he realised _his_ two _children_ were causing a scene and there was the possibility they might get thrown out of college before they had even enrolled.

"Erm. I'm afraid there's been some sort of mix up." He said, stepping to the counter and shouting over the noise of Casey and Derek still arguing to one side. "They _really_ shouldn't be placed in the same dorms. They…erm…don't get on at all."

The woman in front of him dropped the grandma act abruptly.

"Well they're going to have to." She shouted in reply. "They should have thought about that before someone wrote to us and made us change all the room arrangements. They'll get on or move out. Simple. Now. Are you going to take the keys and sign here, or do I have call security?"

"We'll sign." George said, resignedly. Edwin would be in _serious_ trouble when his father got home.

* * *

**AN: This is the start of the telling of the earlier part of the story. We're going to move through the years looking at what happened between Casey and Derek. I'm not going to jump back and forth. We're moving forward from now on.**

**Before anyone takes issue with the comparisons of U of T and Queens, can I just point out I know that they are ranked equally under the latest rankings. Put it down to poetic licence and Derek knowing that Casey had a strong preference for Queens.**


	7. No one makes Casey stand in the corner

"So I've been and checked out the situation with the girl's floor. There are ten girls and I was thinking maybe we should go up and introduce ourselves before any of the others guys get here."

Derek didn't turn around from the window where he was peering out, but James knew that he was listening.

"That sounds good to me." Derek answered. James shrugged.

"Trouble is it seems you have to have an "invitation" from one of the girls who live there in order to be allowed up. There's a code on the door from the elevator foyer and you need one of the girls to give you the code."

"I've got it." Derek said, frowning suddenly at something out of the window.

James came and stood beside him, looking out to see what had Derek's attention. He couldn't see anything, just a row of identical windows, all currently sporting the standard orange drapes – except one window, directly opposite and above where the curtains were a deep purple colour.

He turned his attention back to the code. "I'm impressed Dude, that was quick work. How did you manage that?"

His new friend turned round then. "What can I say? If you got it, flaunt it." Derek smirked. "Ya wanna go up now?"

"Don't mind if I do."

* * *

Derek wasn't sure if he was insane for letting James know that he had the code to Casey's floor (Casey had been forced to tell him it so that he and George could help her move her things into her room). He decided that his new friend had a point. Strike while the iron was hot, and whilst there was a slight risk of running into Casey in the shared living area above, the opportunity to be one of the first males to breach the female section of the dorm was too good to miss.

He pulled his travel-weary t-shirt over his head, scrunched it into a ball and tossed it into the corner of his single room which he was hereby designating the laundry pile. A slight frown crossed his face as he contemplated the idea of having to do his own laundry from now on. The frown changed into a smile when he realised that having Casey close at hand might be good after all. He had no doubt that he could guilt/trick/prank her into doing his laundry. If nothing else, he knew that seeing the pile of dirty laundry in the corner every time she came into his room would get to her. She would feel compelled to tackle it.

It never occurred to him that Casey wouldn't be around much now. Fate, in the form of Edwin, had stepped in and ensured that little was going to change about their living arrangements. They would still bump into each other on the stairs, would still eat breakfast and the evening meal in the same room – albeit a large hall rather than the dining area at home, and he was sure that they would get involved in each other's scrapes. And whilst there were some drawbacks to that, there were also benefits: Casey's hatred of untidiness and disorder being one, and her frugalness with her allowance being another.

He grabbed a clean shirt from his bags and pulled it over his head, and then he sprayed more deodorant underneath.

"Ready?" James asked. Derek nodded, grabbed his key and followed his friend from the room.

"So how did you get the code?" James asked as they climbed the fire stairs to the floor above, the elevator full of someone's belongings.

Derek shrugged. "I know someone." He said non-committal. They passed a couple of girls who smiled and giggled.

"Ladies…" James said, turning round to watch the view as the girls carried on down the stairs.

"Nice." Derek said, grinning. "Let's hope the best didn't just leave."

"Who do you know?" James pushed returning to the earlier subject.

Derek shrugged. "A girl I went to school with. We shared a car on the way here. I helped her with her stuff." Somehow, he couldn't bring himself to tell the truth despite their agreement that the term "step-siblings" was the same as "siblings".

James pushed open the stair door to the girl's foyer and Derek walked over to the key pad to type in the number.

"'You going to tell me what the code is?"

Derek laughed. "No point. They're changing it tomorrow after all the families have gone. You'll have to sweet talk someone into telling you the new one."

"Will your friend tell you when it's changed?"

Derek snorted. "I doubt it."

They moved into a large room fitted out with tatty sofas and chairs and a small, barely adequate kitchen. It was identical to their own living space downstairs – except better looked after, though not significantly.

A group of girls was gathered in the corner, drinking coffee and chatting. As Derek and James appeared, they looked up. One girl in particular curved her face into a smile.

"Oooh. Look girls, things are looking up!" She smiled at Derek. "You're not bad. To what do we owe this honour?"

She was blonde – always a good start - with grey eyes and a figure he definitely wouldn't say no to. She had a confidence about her that spoke volumes. She'd been around the block a few times and was a girl who knew the ways of the world.

"What's your name?" She asked stepping forward and placing a hand on his chest. Derek smirked but didn't answer her. She grinned.

"A man of mystery. Things are definitely looking up. Tell me. Do you know where the library is?" She asked, curling an eyebrow up.

"Why? You need to go there?"

"Don't be ridiculous. It's just aside from these guys everyone I've met since I've been here has been a keener so I've taken to asking them for directions to the library. If they know, I ditch them."

Derek laughed. "Smart." He said. "I do know, but only because it was pointed out to me on the way here. I have absolutely no intention of using it."

"Oh we're going to get on just fine. Coffee?"

James and Derek sat down and two of the girls leapt up to make them their drinks. Introductions were made and soon the extended group were laughing and joking together. James caught Derek's eye and smirked his own smirk.

Things were progressing nicely, and Derek knew he was going to leave the room later with the blonde's cell phone number – and maybe even the blonde herself.

Then one of the other girls nudged his target and giggled.

"Do you think she's still crying?"

Blondie frowned. "Who? Oh? The freak? Yeah. Probably."

Another girl in the group seeing Derek's puzzled face explained.

"There's a girl on this floor who's a little weird. She bounced in here like we were all best friends and squealing how great everything was going to be."  
Another girl chipped in. "She seemed okay at first, if a little hyper. But the more she talked, the more obvious it became that she was a complete keener and definitely a no-no."  
The first girl chuckled. "I think my favourite moment was when she offered to help us with a study chart and produced her own detailing everything she needed to achieve for the next semester and a half. 'Tasha sent her packing with a great put-down and she's spent most of the afternoon in her room, door closed and crying."

Derek regarded the group carefully. He had no doubt that this was the sort of conversation that he had been party to in the past, but for some reason he didn't like it now. This was the start of college when everyone was supposed to have left the childishness of Junior High behind them years ago. He wasn't above the odd disparaging remark, but the idea of anyone letting someone cry all afternoon on their first day away from home just seemed like a step too far to him.

The girl continued. "Bad luck on her part getting room number thirteen I guess. If she'd been in a different room in a different dorm maybe she'd have found someone who gives a shit about their studies."

Derek's eyes widened.

Fuck!

* * *

"Casey. It's me. Open the door." Derek called through the heavy wooden door.

"I'm not in the mood, Derek." A voice thick with emotion called back. "Go away."  
He knocked again. "I'm not in the mood either, toots, but if you don't open this door right now I'm going to make a scene."

"A scene?"

"Yeah. You know me. Something loud and showy."

"Oh god." He heard her moan. The door clicked and she pulled him inside.

Casey's room was a mess. She hadn't unpacked anything except, for some reason, her drapes: long and purple. Her eyes were red, the skin around them swollen from crying and in places her long hair was stuck to her face with tears.

"That was quick." Derek said, surprised. "You normally hold out longer than that."

"I don't need any more embarrassments today." She said quietly, resuming her place on the bed. "The administration office was bad enough, and…" her voice trailed away.

"I know about the other girls." Derek admitted. "They were just boasting about reducing you to tears."

"Come to gloat?" Casey sighed, and picked up a tissue to blow her nose as fresh tears rolled down her face. Derek shoved a pile of clothes to one side and sat beside Casey.

"No." He said. "I came to see if you wanted to go grab something to eat. One of my roommates suggested a diner he saw on the way here this morning. He's waiting for me. Come with us."

Casey stared at him and he realised she was probably trying to work out what the catch was.

"I'm serious, Casey. Nora would cut me a new one if I left you crying in your room on your first day. Come with. We can resort to our usual state of play tomorrow."  
She looked up at him and for the first time he saw a trace of light in the darkness that had clouded her blue eyes.

Light, intelligence…

He took a deep breath and reminded himself for the umpteenth time that Casey was off-limits and it didn't matter how often they did that little stare thing of theirs, neither one of them was ever going to make that last tiny move closer.

"I'm a mess." Casey said eventually.

"Yup. Snot and tears…urgh!"

"Give me a second?" She asked, nodding towards the sink in the corner of the room. Derek rolled his eyes and then smiled. "Sure. Only don't take too long, my stomach won't appreciate an extended delay."

Ten minutes later, a tidy, freshly made up Casey followed Derek out of her room door into the corridor and, turning, locked the small space that would be her home for the next year.

In the corridor, James was waiting. He was tall, dark and Casey had to admit, easy on the eye.

"Jay, meet Casey McDonald. The bane of my existence, the ultimate keener – and my step-sister."

"Step-sister?" James was surprised. "Oh…the girl you travelled with."

Derek laughed. "Oh yeah. Casey and I…road trip from hell."

Casey smiled weakly at James who smiled back.

"Sorry to crash your party." She said.

"S'ok. You aren't interrupting anything. Derek, they told me to give you this. I think it's 'Tasha's phone number." James held out a piece of paper as if it had been contaminated with a deadly disease. Like his friend, James had felt uncomfortable with the way the other girls had been talking. He probably wouldn't have left of his own accord, preferring to give everyone a second chance, but when Derek had stood up without a word and left the room, James had felt compelled to follow.

Looking at the proffered piece of paper, Derek shook his head.

"Bin it." He said. "Plenty more where that came from."

His step-sister rolled her eyes and followed them towards the stairs.

* * *

James was nice, Casey decided. He wasn't Sam but she could tell that he would be a good friend to Derek. He was being nice to Casey too – in a purely platonic way.

When Casey went to the bathroom, Derek took him to one side and told him Casey was out of bounds. James nodded, but Derek needn't have worried. James wasn't stupid enough to hit on his new friend's sister.

They made it to the diner and had a nice meal, but Casey wasn't surprised when Derek held his hand out for her share of the bill. In fact, she found it reassuring. The idea of Derek paying for her meal was a step too far!

They argued their way through the meal as normal, leaving James as referee. Strangely, he didn't mind. There was something amusing about their conflict, and it was very entertaining to watch probably because they both had a decent sense of humour. Despite Casey's comments earlier, they were both capable of great wit, and the years of practice had honed it to a sharp point.

Certainly, by the time the meal had ended and it was time to go back to their rooms, Casey had forgotten about the upset caused by the other girls in her dorm and was laughing and joking with James and Derek as if she had known _both_ of them for several years and not just Derek.

However, as they walked back to the dorm, Casey's wit dried up and her conversation too. Derek noticed, but he said nothing, bantering instead with James until they reached the ground floor lobby of their building.

"I'll see you up there, Jay." Derek said. "I need a plug adapter and I think mine got mixed in with Casey's stuff." And then without giving Casey chance to object, he pushed the button for her floor and when the elevator arrived immediately, propelled her inside.

The girls' corridor was deserted but they could hear voices coming from the living area. Casey glanced in the direction of the shared area and then pointedly turned away to her own room, quickly unlocking the door

"I don't think I have your adapter, Derek."

"You don't. It's on my desk." He said leaning back against the closed door and watching her as she sat on the bed.

"Then why…?"

"Because I needed to say something without you ruining everything by crying in front of my first college friend."  
"Oh?"

"Casey, this isn't high school. These guys around us are educated adults. That should mean that the stupid snarking disappeared at graduation, but it doesn't. Some people never grow up, some people are never nice. Being adults just makes their bullying more nasty, more sophisticated.

Just be more cautious before you put yourself out there trying to make friends. Friends happen naturally, if a friendship requires too much effort to start, it isn't worth it. Stop trying to _be everything_ and just _be_. The friends will come. They just aren't living under the same roof as you."

"It's easy to say stuff like that when you're automatically popular." Casey said quietly.

"Automatically, Casey. Meaning, it requires no effort. You know me, I'm lazy. If someone can't like me for who _I _am then I'm not interested. The funny thing is, that gets me more friends than it loses me. Those girls through there are just insecure girls like you. But they bite first and ask questions later. They aren't worth the effort."

"Why didn't you keep her phone number?"

"Coz I may be a shit step-brother, but _I am_ your step-brother which means I get certain privileges. The main one of which is that messing with you is _my_ job not theirs."

Casey was silent. "I wanted to go home." She said. "That's twice today you've kept me on track."

"Yeah well, sometimes you keep me on track too." He smirked. "And don't worry, those two times _were_ favours and I _will_ be calling them in."

She walked him back down the corridor towards the elevator. Just before the door with the keypad she stopped.

"Thanks D." She said and stretched up to kiss him on the cheek. He rolled his eyes.

"PDA, Casey…" He warned. She laughed.

"Sorry."

"I'll let you off this time, Princess." He said softly. Then he slapped her on the back.

"The orientation meeting is tomorrow at 10am. So James and I will meet you downstairs in the lobby at 9am and we'll go to breakfast."  
Casey looked taken aback. Derek shrugged.

"I know you, and I know your appetite. You'll never use all your food allowance. I'm willing to help you out on that front."

"That figures." She groaned dramatically, but there was a sparkle in her eyes that hadn't been there for a while, and really she didn't mind sharing her breakfast with him and James who she guessed was probably now her first "college friend".

"See you tomorrow, Spacey." Derek said. He glanced behind her and chuckled. Then he turned and stepped through the door.

Casey watched him go down the fire stairs before turning to go back to her room. She stopped. Behind her was the same group of girls from the living room. They were standing watching her with open mouths.

It was hilarious.

"Who was that?" 'Tasha asked, still piqued that he had left without giving her his name earlier.

Casey grinned. "That? Oh…Derek Venturi."

"Derek Venturi." The blonde tried the name out. She frowned. "How do _you_ know _him_?"

Casey McDonald had started to walk towards her room, but she turned her head back over her shoulder as she walked.

"We live together." She said, and without stopping she looked forwards again and raised a hand in the air. "Night everyone."

* * *

**AN: Taster for chapter 8 on my facebook page under the discussions tab. It's a good 'un.**


	8. Derek Venturi Hockey God

**AN: If you've read the teaser on Facebook…don't hate me by the end of this chapter! There's still a long way to go.**

**

* * *

**

"…_those two times were favours and I will be calling them in."_

* * *

_Plink!_

Casey stirred in her sleep as the sharp sound echoed round her room. But she had been studying until late and had taken a dance class earlier in the day, so she didn't wake.

_Plink! Crack! _

"_FUCK!" Someone hissed._

Then she woke. She opened her eyes cautiously and looked around the now familiar room. In the darkness, everything looked normal. But there had been a noise, she was sure of it. She switched on her light and blinked at the clock.

2.33am.

Casey swung her legs out of bed, and went to the door which opened onto the main corridor. She pulled it open and looked out. Nothing. So she went back inside, crossed to the window and opened the purple drapes.

A large crack crazed across the glass. Her eyes widened. _What the…?_

Peering out into the darkness, she tried to see what had caused her window to break. Below, two stories down, was a rough shrub border which had clearly been based on a tropical garden. The borders were spiky and the ground gravelled, and… She frowned. There was something moving around in the bushes.

A normal person would quickly start screaming for assistance from her roommates or the security team who had an office in the next door building. Casey didn't: firstly, because she didn't get on with said roommates, and secondly because since Derek's words all those weeks ago about just living her own life and ignoring everyone else's, she had made an effort not to rock the boat. She reasoned that the movement could be an animal or a person, and that even if it was the latter what they were doing in the large spiky broom plants below was very much their own business.

Until she heard the hiss.

"Casey!"

Derek.

She took a deep breath, shaking her head…and went back to bed switching off her light. Derek had broken her bedroom window. Derek was standing in the spiky plants below – okay that was quite amusing. Derek was up to something – less amusing.

Casey lay in bed, determined to ignore him because she figured her new "live and let live" policy applied equally well to her step-brother.

Unfortunately, her mind took that opportunity to remind her of his "favour" comment. Strictly speaking, she supposed, she owed Derek.

_Damn!_

* * *

Her room key was tucked into her bathrobe pocket, the garment itself tightly wrapped around her over her pyjamas because it was a extra cold Fall this year. She let herself out into the frigid night air using the fire escape which ran straight into the small garden.

"J-J-Jesus woman! You t-t-took your f-f-f-ucking time!" a voice hissed by her ear.

"Talk to me again like that, Venturi and I'm going. What the hell are you doing out here?" Casey's voice was barely above a whisper but he heard every word.

"I'm l-l-locked out, I need somewhere to st-st-stay for the night."

"What? Are you kidding me? You broke my window, Derek! You do realise I'm going to have a long and horrible job explaining that to my _boss_ don't you?"

Casey had been supplementing her meagre funds by doing part time admin work for the Accommodations office.

"I'll pay for the f-f-fucking window just give me your bathrobe."

"Are you insane?"  
"No. I'm naked. Now give me your robe."

There was silence. "Please tell me you're joking." Casey said in a small voice.

Derek rolled his eyes, fixed his mouth into a grimace and stepped out from behind the bush holding his hands in front of his groin.

"Oh My God!" Casey's eyes bugged. "Derek you haven't got a stitch on!"

"Keep your voice down, lamebrain! And give me your bathrobe."

Casey was still staring.

"Casey…" Derek warned. She snapped her eyes back to his face, blushing.

"Sorry…I…erm…" She hastily removed her robe and handed it over, rubbing her arms against the cold. Her pyjamas were little protection. She watched as Derek turned around and then slipped his arms into the dressing gown.

His back was smudged with marker pen and in some places she thought there was even blood.

"What the hell happened to you?" She asked, concerned. Now decent, Derek grabbed her by the arm and pushed her towards the door she had just emerged from.

"I'll tell you when we get inside." He promised.

* * *

"Atishoo!" Derek sneezed.

He was sitting in Casey's bed now in an old t-shirt of his own which Casey had liberated from the laundry pile a year ago, and a pair of Casey's shortie pyjamas bottoms which looked very similar to boxer shorts. Where it was visible, his skin was raw pink from the cold air outside and the vicious scrubbing it had endured moments ago in the shower. He was drinking hot chocolate and tucking into a sandwich.

Casey might be severely pissed at him, but she also knew her first aid and she had started to see the beginnings of a chill settling in to his body.

Hence his current position.

"Consider us even, Derek." Casey said.

"Definitely." He said, sipping the warm drink. For once he wasn't about to bite the hand that fed him. He was grateful to Casey.

"What happened?" She asked.

"Hockey squad initiation ceremony." Derek told her. "They jumped me on the way home from a club. They made me strip and tied me to the back of a pickup with "Derek Venturi Hockey God" in lipstick across my chest and a box covering my groin. Then they drove me round campus."

"A box?"

Derek took a deep breath. "A box, Casey. It's part of the hockey uniform; for protection."

She blushed a deep red which would have made him laugh except he couldn't bring himself to laugh at her when she had just saved his naked butt. She was frowning.

"I saw your back, Derek. It was bleeding. That's not an initiation. That's hazing. That's forbidden."

Derek shrugged. "Whatever…the senior hockey squad do it every year to the newbies. I should have known it was coming. They'd caught everyone else."

"But that's horrible, Derek. Seriously, you should…" Casey broke off. She wasn't going to finish the sentence because she knew what his response would be. _Act don't react._ There was no point in involving the authorities because that would kill his hockey career.

"They're evil." She said, sadly.

"Yup." Derek put his empty mug and plate on the side and then leant back, wincing as his sore back touched the headboard. Casey stood up and went to her bedside cabinet and opened the door. She pulled a small first aid kit out and retrieved a tube of antiseptic cream.

"Turn around." She ordered and then proceeded to spread the cold cream on the myriad of small cuts.

They sat there in an awkward silence for a while.

"Thanks Casey." Derek said when she finally finished touching his back.

"I owed you." She said. She sat back on her haunches on the bed. "What are you going to do?"

"Do?" Derek looked confused.

"Oh come on, D. I know you. If you aren't going to report it, you'll still _do_ something."

"Yeah. I guess so." He admitted. "I'll have to think though. It needs to be something good."

Casey nodded and glanced idly at the clock.

"We need to go to sleep." She said. "I've got to work first thing. Do you need me to get you a new key?"  
"Nah. They told me I could have everything back in the morning. I'll just wait it out up here."

"Okay." Casey pulled back the covers beside Derek. The bed was very small, but if they were careful there was enough room for them both to sleep. Derek sighed.

"Great. I definitely need to get them back. Not only have they embarrassed the fuck out of me, but they've made me go to bed with a keener."

Casey was in a bad mood at work the next day. She had a crick in her neck from sleeping at an odd angle and from her body being so tense. Both she and Derek had hovered on their respective edges of the bed to avoid touching each other.

She looked grimly at the pile of letters she was stuffing into envelopes. They were letters about a proposed visit by a specialist cleaning team to deep clean all academic and residential buildings to rid the university of a bad bout of stomach flu that was going around. The letters informed each dorm, building administrator and even the privately owned frat/sorority houses in the area of the dates that the team would be visiting their building. It explained the need for the buildings to be vacated at that time and the duration of the exclusion.

As Casey worked, she pulled up a letter addressed to a particular frat house – that populated by the senior hockey team.

A very Venturi idea floated across her mind, and she started to smile.

* * *

"You know, I'm impressed." Derek said, grunting under the strain. His muscles pushed against the fabric of his t-shirt which was stained with sweat and for some reason, Casey was fascinated. "I never would have thought you capable of this."

His step-sister panted with the effort she was putting in. Women don't "sweat", but her well-formed body was doing amazing things with the fabric covering it too.

"I've done this before, Derek. You know that."

"Yes, but I never believed you were this good at it. And you were right to make it just us. A clean in and out simplifies things. Fewer distractions."

"Do you think we'll get caught?"

Derek chuckled. "I hope not. Nothing worse than getting caught with your pants down."

"Shh! I heard a noise."

Derek froze. They listened for a moment.

"It's okay. It's just the contractors leaving. Right. You move to your left and we'll take this down the stairs."

And they continued their furniture removal.

Later, they stood together on the doorstep and surveyed their handy work.

"Not bad, Casey. Not bad. Of course the idea wasn't original."

"No. But the opportunity was too good to miss. And it was a much bigger project this time."

Laid out in front of them on the lawn of the Senior Hockey team's frat house was the complete _interior_ of the Senior Hockey team's frat house. If a guy and a girl could move it, it was now on the lawn. But they hadn't just dumped the items, they had arranged them exactly as they had looked inside. Should you choose, it was now possible to sit on their three couches and look at the television – although of course it wasn't plugged in.

The idea had come from Casey when she realised that whilst the cleaning crew would only take two hours to complete their clean of the premises, the residents would not be allowed to return for _five_ hours, giving them a clear three hours to work. Of course, Casey had missed out on her study time and Derek had skipped an extended lecture but it was worth it.

"Lassiter, eat your heart out. Just promise me you didn't leave your ID card in the rolodex this time." Derek said, leaning up against the door frame.

"Nah. I left something better." Casey said with a smirk.

"Which was?" Derek asked cautiously.

Casey didn't answer, she just stepped back into the house and into the now empty living room. Except that it wasn't empty. Over the fireplace was a very large mirror which Casey had refused to move in case it broke and gave them bad luck.

And then he saw it…scrawled across the mirror in lipstick.

"_THE Hockey God was here! Long live triple D!"_

He turned to his favourite step-sister and grinned.


	9. Dead People

"Dude. What's Casey doing?"

James was standing in the queue for breakfast in the dining hall, Derek to his left. Across the other side of the hall, Casey was sitting at their usual table, her head down and if James wasn't very much mistaken, she was banging it on the grey formica.

"She has a hangover." Derek said with a smirk.

"And banging her head on the table isn't going to make it worse?" James frowned.

Derek turned back to the food. "The head banging isn't about the hangover, it's about the fact that she's got to go house-hunting for next year _with_ a hangover. She's cursing herself for letting us persuade her to go out last night."

"We didn't persuade her. We kidnapped her and told her she had to come with us on pain of death."

"I know. But she thinks she was weak for giving in. And I'm not taking the blame for the fact that she can't hold her alcohol."

James rolled his eyes. "It was the first time she could legally drink, D."

"Yeah. But she didn't have to drink the bar out of rum and coke."

"And you didn't have to keep buying them for her."

"Hey. If she can't learn to respect happy juice…"

James clunked his tray down on the runners of the counter. "Sometimes I'm surprised you two are even talking to each other."  
Derek laughed. "Most of the time we aren't."

"Why's she house-hunting for next year anyway? Didn't you tell her?"

Casey's step-brother shrugged.

"Nope. I'll get around to it eventually."

"You're evil Venturi."

"I know. And she loves it really."

* * *

"Hi Case." The short, dark haired girl appeared beside Casey as she hammered out her few remaining brain cells. "You okay?"  
"Hi Clare. I'm fine, just a headache."

The girl looked surprised obviously wondering why someone with a headache would be banging their head against the table. Casey flicked her eyes up to look at her. "Long story."

"Let me guess…it involves Derek?" Casey and Derek and their fights were legendary among their friends - and most of Kingston.

Casey nodded. Clare sat down beside her. "So what are you doing today? We've got a free day."  
"They published the housing lists yesterday, I'm going to go and look for an apartment before they all go." Casey replied. It was fast approaching Easter which meant it was time to be looking for accommodation for their second year at college – unless they wanted to stay in dorms or move to a sorority house. Casey wanted to feel she had grown up a little since the beginning of the year – she couldn't live in Dorms anymore. And hanging around with Derek and James as she did she still didn't have a large number of female friends so the opportunity to be invited into a sorority house had not really arisen.

"Oh."

"Where are you living next year?" Casey asked, finally sitting up straighter in her seat and wincing at the bright lights.

"The girls I know from home have asked me to move into their apartment now that the sixth person has finally moved out."  
"The weird girl that was stealing their food?"

"Yeah. Anyway, they've extended their lease for another year so I'm joining them. I'd ask you to come too but there isn't room."  
Casey smiled. "Thanks, I appreciate the thought. I'll find something. I'm just looking forward to being away from Derek, _finally_."

"You don't mean that. You guys are like best friends."

Casey rolled her eyes. "It's an act, Clare. We fight like cat and dog."

"And you both love every minute of it. Where's Derek living next year?"  
"I've no idea, and I don't want to know. Next year is going to be the year that I finally break away from the annoying appendage that is my step-brother."

Amused, her friend grinned and jerked her head to one side. "Speaking of annoying appendages…" as Derek approached their table.

* * *

Casey spent the morning phoning landlords. The afternoon she had earmarked for visiting the places. At lunch time, Derek flopped down into the seat beside her.

"So when are you starting to visit these places anyway?"  
"In about fifteen minutes, why?"  
"Are these landlords male?"

"Some."

"Take James with you." Derek ordered, automatically volunteering their mutual friend.

"Derek I'll be fine. I don't need to take your best friend house-hunting with me. I'm not stupid."  
"If you start visiting strange houses on your own you are."  
"James has a lecture. I can't ask him to skip."

Derek frowned. "I've got hockey practice. Find someone else."  
"Derek…"

"Casey. Do it. I need Nora to be on my good side. I owe her money."  
His step-sister turned her attention back to the list she was working her way through. "You owe every one money, Derek." She said without looking up.

"I don't owe you any."

"Yes you do."  
"No I don't. I bankrolled you last night and believe me when I say you can drink your way through a wallet."

Casey's eyes widened. "How much did I have?"

Derek smirked. "Too much to be comfortable, but not enough to lose your clothes."

"Arghhh!" Casey thumped her slightly-recovered head down on the table again.

"Whoops there goes another brain cell…" Derek chuckled. "Right. I'm off to practice. Talk to James, you shouldn't go house-hunting without him."

And with that, he was gone.

Casey picked up her cell and phoned Clare.

"Clare, I need a favour."

* * *

"What was the oven like in that place, I didn't notice?" Clare asked as they walked down the steps from the small apartment building.

"I don't know, there was so much fat on the door I couldn't open it to find out."  
"Yuck! One to strike."

"Yup. God this is demoralising. Half of the list has already gone and of the remainder that I can actually afford, most of it is thoroughly disgusting."

"Maybe the next one will be okay. Lead the way."

The next apartment was clean but it was attached to a funeral home. There was a cloying smell of death about the place and Casey felt bile rising from her stomach. She decided if she lived here then she would never be able to get drunk because she couldn't handle the smell on an already delicate stomach.

A bonus to the place might be that Derek would never just "drop in".

Ten minutes, (and a suspicious burning smell coming from next door), later and Casey and Clare left.

"Definitely not." Clare said as they walked away. Casey sighed.

"Unfortunately, it has to stay as a "maybe". At least it was clean."

"Casey you cannot live with dead people."

"I live with Derek."

"Ha ha. Now get serious."

"Clare I am being serious. Beggars can't be choosers. I'm in too weak a pecuniary state to turn down a gift horse."

Clare stepped in front of her. "Casey, I would rather you spent the year wedged in the tiny floor space between my desk and my wardrobe rather than let you sit next to me in lectures smelling of formaldehyde."

"I'll keep looking."

* * *

"You're late." Derek announced as Casey walked up the steps to the dining hall.

"You're obnoxious."

He grinned. "Any luck?"  
"Nope."

"Nothing?" Derek queried as they went inside the building to meet James.

"That depends."

"On what?"  
"On whether or not I can stomach living next to dead people."

"Dead people? What they so short of accommodation they're renting out crypts now? That's funny."

"Your brand of humour stinks, Derek."

"Hey I'm not the one who's going to be sharing lying down space with decaying corpses."

Casey sighed, picking up the tray and starting to load her plate.

"Grab me an extra slice of the Crispy Cake." Derek instructed her.

"On my points?" Casey asked, referring to the credit system the catering employed to pay for the meals.

"Are we seriously going to argue over the inevitable?" Derek asked. "I'm growing. I need sustenance."

"The only thing getting bigger round here is your ego." Casey retorted, but Derek watched amused as she picked up an extra piece of crispy cake.

"You really shouldn't be watching my ego." He said, aware of the double entendre in his words.

"How can I miss it when you keep waving it in front of my face?" Casey said and Derek wondered if she had truly missed the double entendre in _her_ words.

This had been one of the subtle changes in their relationship in the past six months that he had noticed. Their banter had not changed much, they still fought almost constantly. But the content had altered slightly, becoming more grown up and less…high school. On occasion, they both used phrases and terms which were almost sexual in nature – something Derek was aware of, but he doubted that Casey had noticed. She wasn't a complete innocent, although he was fairly sure she still hadn't put out for any of the losers she had dated, but he doubted that the idea of Derek as anything other than her brother had ever occurred to her.

She liked order and uniformity. Derek's father was married to Casey's mother therefore he was her brother. The fact that her comments were sexual just wouldn't compute in her logical mind.

Of course the other way that things had changed between them was that their bantering became part of their _friendship_. Clare wasn't joking when she described Casey and Derek as almost best friends. Casey didn't have many female friends because she had been adopted by Derek's large circle of male ones. And she liked it. _They_ at least treated her like their sister even if her _brother_ didn't.

It never occurred to her to date them.

Derek dated and some of them Casey even got on with. There weren't many that she met. He met girls at parties, but only if he or one of their friends had already seen Casey home. He never took them back to their dorm, and he never dated any of their roommates.

He had a reputation again, but it was more for his achievements on the ice rather than his pranks – although the Senior Hockey team one had been installed into the book of Queen's legends and rarely a party went past without people talking about it.

They had both grown up, and both acknowledged it. Even if they still wouldn't acknowledge the "friends" word.

They finished filling their plates and made their way to the cash desk. The member of staff sitting there smiled when she saw them.

"Is he pinching your food points again?" The matronly lady asked cheerfully.

"Hey! I'll waste away on the allocation they give me." Derek objected. "I'm a hockey player. I'm supposed to eat well."  
"I doubt that chocolate crispy cake is high on the coach's list of priority foods." Casey pointed out. "There's too much saturated fat and refined sugars."

"Stop trying to be a killjoy. I'm just going to take my lump of fat and sugar and go sit over there with James." He grinned. "I'll see you in a sec."

The older woman smiled at Casey. "Your boyfriend is cute. He cares about you a lot."

Casey chuckled. "He's not my boyfriend. He's my step-brother."

"Really?" The tone said it all, but Casey was oblivious, her mind already on the housing problem again.

.

"Hi Case!" James greeted her when she sat down at the table.

"Hi Jay."

"Busy day?" He noted she looked tired, frazzled almost, although a lot of that was the way conversations with Derek sometimes made her feel.

"House-hunting. Honestly, I swear most of the places you need a Tetanus shot just to step through the front door."

Derek raised his head from his food. "I thought you'd decided to go live with the dead people?"

James frowned at Derek. "You've _still_ not told her?"

Derek smirked and shrugged.

"Told me what?" Casey asked, suspiciously.

James sighed. "He's let you spend the entire day house-hunting hasn't he?"

"Yes…why?"

"Because my parents have decided to go into property rental. They've bought a student house in Kingston for me to live in and rent out the other rooms. There are four bedrooms: Me, Derek, Carl and I told Derek last week you could be the fourth. If you want to live with us that is."

Casey stared at her step-brother.

"Do you mean to tell me, that I just _wasted_ a day off trudging round the disgusting pits of humanity known as student housing, _knowing_ that I had a room in a house with friends already sorted out?"

Derek beamed. "Yup."

"Der-ek!"

James looked confused. "Do I take that as a yes?"

Casey flicked her eyes back to his. "YES! Please!"

Her friend smiled. "Great! That saves me finding someone else. I've got lots of friends but most of them are animals and I have no intention of living with them. At least I know you'll clean up after yourself."

Derek snorted. "Herself and everyone else."

James shrugged. "I'm not complaining. In fact, I think it's only fair as Casey will probably end up doing more than her fair share of the cleaning that she gets to have first pick of the rooms…after me of course."

"What?" Derek exclaimed.

"Sounds perfectly reasonable to me." Said Casey smirking at Derek, who narrowed his eyes at her in a way that said "just you wait".

"There's a converted attic room with en-suite that I'm going to take because it is almost a mini-apartment. Then there are three rooms on the second floor. One room is the old master bedroom, you'll probably want that Casey. Then the other two are doubles, but quite a bit smaller."

"The master sounds fine to me." Said Casey.

"You'll probably want the next biggest room, D. It's the last bedroom with a big bed in it. Oh…that won't work. It's next door to Casey's room."

Casey groaned as she saw a gleam appear in Derek's eyes.

He smirked. "I'll take it. It will be Home Sweet Home."

"Bugger." Whispered Casey.


	10. Changes

Casey was sobbing into her phone. "I just thought, maybe this time Mom, it was the real deal. I was ready to…" She coughed.

Nora winced because whilst she was happy her daughter felt comfortable enough to share that sort of information with her, she wasn't sure she was comfortable enough to _hear_ it.

"_Did_ you?" She grimaced in anticipation.

"What? No! I mean we'd not discussed the future and I hadn't met his parents, and Derek hates him and…"  
Nora smiled at the last comment. "Does Derek know Morgan dumped you?"

"No. Derek's full of the hockey scout's visit. It's hard to get any sense out of him these days even when I see him. Not that he speaks words of wisdom normally."

"He's not that bad Casey. If he was that bad, you wouldn't be friends."  
"We are not friends! That's just a vicious rumour started by people who _know_ better."

Nora chuckled. "So how come you are still living with him even though it's nearly graduation?"  
"James' parents are great landlords." Casey stiffly. "And he and Carl are decent roommates."

"And Derek?"

"I put up with him because it's a package deal." She lied.

"I've got to go. Robbie has a play-date this afternoon and I need to get going. Are you going to be okay?"

"I'll be fine." Casey said, looking at the clock. "Derek will be home in a minute." She said softly as though embarrassed that his presence would actually make her happier.

"Tell him to make sure he calls us Saturday after the game."

"Sure."

"And Casey?"  
"Yes?"  
"I love you, sweetheart."

"I love you too Mom."

Shortly afterwards the front door banged and she heard her step-brother's distinctive stomp up the stairs. There was a pause as he reached her room then he crashed, uninvited, through the door.

"You look like shit. Get dressed we're going out." He barked, turned around and left the room.

Casey stared at the open doorway expecting him to come back and when he didn't she climbed off her bed and went after him.

"And I should follow your orders because…?"

"I'm in a good mood and clearly it's the only offer you've had tonight."  
"Der-ek!"

"Just do it lame brain. Everyone else is out doing their own stuff and I'm not having anyone say that I'm boring by staying in. Just a jeans and a t-shirt will do. I'm not pushing the boat out."

Casey opened her mouth to protest but then realised that if she did he would probably pick her up, carrying her to her room and force her to get dressed.

"Okay." She said eventually. "But let the records show that I'm doing this under protest."

Derek grinned.

.

He took her to an afternoon showing of a gangster movie and she complained loudly. In reality, however, when they had pulled into the movie theatre parking lot her stomach had turned in anticipation of him wanting them to watch something that might potentially have love scenes or worse, sex. She knew her mind would go straight to her broken relationship and then there would be tears. Derek didn't _do_ tears. She had looked across at her step-brother and decided _what the hell_ it would serve him right.

The movie was good with no romance but a decent plot, and afterwards he took her out to dinner in a little bistro nearby. They talked for a couple of hours over the food, sitting in the bar area when they had finished eating and then eventually when the place was starting to close leaving to walk back to their car.

In the whole time, her mind never once strayed to Morgan and the break-up. The last _ever_ time it did, Derek prompted it by saying unexpectedly, "He's an ass, and I told him so."

Casey frowned in confusion.

"Morgan." Derek explained, showing that he did actually know why she had been a mess when he got home. "I caught the fucker kissing someone outside the rink and went postal on him. When he got chance to breathe he told me you had split up…so I went postal on him again."

Casey smiled. "Thanks."

Derek shrugged. "It's what brothers are supposed to do, eh?"

"Friends do it too Derek." Casey said pointedly.

He grimaced, but she noted the amusement in his eyes which meant he wasn't as anti her suggestion as he made out.

"Friends? That's just a vicious rumour made up by people who _know_ better." He said causing Casey to laugh.

Derek slung an arm around her shoulders. "Do me a favour? Next time I tell you to avoid a guy because he's a tool, at least ask me why before you ignore me."

Casey nodded. "Does that mean I get to comment on the Venturi Vixens?"

"Over my dead body!"

* * *

James and Casey were eating breakfast on Friday morning. They were perched on the two bar stools in the kitchen, Casey with a bowl of nutritious wholegrain cereal, James with a strawberry pop-tart.

Casey opened her mouth to comment on the cardboard offering her roommate was tucking into, when upstairs a door slammed and someone started stomping around the house.

"I'll be happy when Saturday is over." James commented between mouthfuls. "He's fucking unbearable at the moment."  
Casey nodded. "I know. But it's a big deal. If he doesn't attract the attention of the scouts this weekend he'll have to get a job and actually _work_ for a living."

James laughed. "You know Derek though, Case. Whatever he does he'll come out of it successful and popular."  
"Please. Don't remind me. He has the luck of the devil. He'll be a rip-roaring success, earn lots of money, marry a top-class model and have scores of cute little mini-Dereks. And the rest of us inadequates who actually work for a living will have mortgages, failed marriages and IVF to look forward to."

"Top models and mini-dereks. You've put some thought into this."

"Nah. He has a life plan too. It involves air hostesses, playboy bunnies and yes, supermodels."

"What about librarians?"

Casey snorted. "Like he'd ever sleep with a keener."

"So these little mini-dereks would be your nephews." James pointed out.

"Yeah. Pity me. I get to spend every Christmas for the rest of my life surrounded by multiple Dereks."

"Noisy."

Casey grimaced and nodded. She looked up at the clock. "I've got to go. I might not have many weeks to go till we finish but I need to make every one count if I want to hit graduate school in the Fall."

She placed her bowl beside the sink, patted James on the back by way of a goodbye and then left the room.

James was thoughtful for a moment, wondering if it had occurred to either of his two best friends that they would be forced to live apart next year – and unless by some miracle they both wised up to the feelings they had for each other that next year would last the rest of their lives. He remembered the way Casey had been at various times over the last three years when her relationships failed. The tears and tension.

He wondered what it would be like when Derek and Casey had to say goodbye to each other – and whether he could emigrate before that happened.

* * *

"Jesus Derek. Would you calm the fuck down!" Carl shouted as Derek cannoned into him coming up the stairs.

"I'm late for a lecture and I've picked up the wrong files." Derek said, sounding uncharacteristically like Casey. Stress did weird things to him and for the past year he had found himself behaving more and more like a keener and less like his usual self. He knew if he was to stand any chance of getting signed for a major league team he had to show he was reliable. He was rivalling Casey for the time and effort he was putting into his studies right now. Saturday would be the culmination of all his hard work on and off the ice. He didn't need the repeated warnings from the coaching team at Queens he knew what was at stake. He was good enough to make it – provided he didn't fuck _it _up.

Derek was nervous – actually he was beyond nervous.

Casey had promised to come on Saturday to watch the game, and he wasn't afraid to admit - to himself at least – that he was hoping she would hang around afterwards to stop him vomiting on a scout or two. Their family had wanted to come too but Edwin and Lizzie had exams and Robbie had come out in chicken pox.

.

"Venturi." Coach Matthews greeted him as he checked in later that day. "All on track for tomorrow?"

"Yes Coach."

"Cool. I got you your predicted grades through from the Dean's office." Derek looked at him in panic. The older man laughed. "Relax. They're impressive. You've busted a gut this year and it shows in your marks. I've told you before, major league teams are looking for more than just someone who can play hockey. They want signs of commitment and dependability. Your performance off the ice this year has been as stellar as your performance on it. What do you put that down to?"

Derek shrugged, still shaking too much to be care free. "Planning and dedication?" he queried. The coach looked at him and laughed.

"I'd have said it had more to do with that beautiful step-sister of yours."

"Which one would that be?" Derek asked, rolling his eyes.

"The one who nags you to death after every game." Coach smirked. "Is she coming tomorrow?"  
"That's the plan."

"Good. Can't be without your lucky charm, can we?" then his jovial face got serious. "Derek, I can't emphasise how important tomorrow is. You screw up tomorrow there won't be many other chances. Just turn up, do well and then let me take it from there."

"Okay." Derek tried to breathe.

"Listen. Don't expect to get word straight away. Sometimes they go away and take their time. Just do me a favour, and don't get wasted until you know, okay?"

"Sure."

"And tell Casey to cheer loudly."

* * *

"Let me through." Casey pleaded as she tried to shove her way through the crowds of groupies lining the corridor outside the dressing room. It was still half an hour before the game was due to start but the hockey girls were all in the halls waiting for their favourite players. Derek wasn't the only senior hockey player who was playing for the big time today – but he had his fair share of (very jealous) groupies.

"Clear off McDonald!" One of the over-made-up barbies called. "Join the queue."

The door to the changing rooms opened and Coach Matthews poked his head out.

"Casey?" He called more in hope than expectation.

"I'm here!" she shouted, waving her arm in the air. Someone grabbed it and yanked her into the forbidden territory of the home team changing room.

"Thank the fuck. I can't get him out of the john."

Casey found herself propelled towards the men's washrooms and eventually towards one particular cubicle.

"He's in there." Her escort said and shoved her to the door.

"Derek?" Casey asked. "Are you okay?"

She was rewarded with the sound of someone vomiting loudly and found herself rolling her eyes.

"You know, moron, I'd love for all those brain-dead floozies out there to hear you right now."  
"Urgh!" Was all he managed.

She laughed. "Derek. Come on. It's a hockey game. You've been playing hockey since you were ten. This is no different."

There was a flush and he emerged from the enclosure looking pale and worn. Casey tilted her head to look at him.

"You don't have to play. You could come home with me and I'll cook your favourite."

"Don't tempt me, Casey. Right now it sounds great."

She chuckled. "Then you really would hate me forever. I'd be the one who held you back from your dream; the one who didn't goad you into playing; the one who let you down."

"What makes you think I can't do this without your input?"

"You…you'd rather have your head over the toilet than start warming up. You'd rather feel sorry for yourself than discuss tactics with the coach. And you'd rather waste your time talking to your step-sister than eyeing the barbies outside."

He snorted and their eyes met. "Bimbos? Barbies?"

The girls who hang around you like a rash, D."

He smirked. "You know every time I turn around, you're there. What does that make you?"

"A fool Derek."

He laughed. "You said it babe!" He straightened up. "Where are you sitting? The usual?"

She nodded. "You can do this. If only because I've told you so many times that you can't…that you'll be a wastrel. Go out there and prove me wrong."

Derek stepped forward and caught her waist with his arm. He placed a kiss in her hair.

"Meet me afterwards." He demanded.

"If I don't have anywhere else to be."

They grinned at each other.

"Thanks sis."

"Idiot!"

And then he walked away from her and joined the rest of the team.

* * *

"Where is she?" Derek said as soon as he came off the ice.

"What?"

"Where's Casey?"

The junior member of the team frowned. "Out front I guess."

Derek pulled a face. "You know. If you're going to get anywhere you need to start paying attention." He barked and made his way to the dressing room.

Casey beat him.

"You were too loose in your challenges." She announced. "But I don't think they noticed. I'm sure I caught them smiling a couple of times. Of course that could be just wind."

Derek groaned. "You're no fucking help, you know that?"

She laughed. "You played well, Derek. Relax. I'm sure you did fine." She glanced towards the door. "I need to go. I have no desire to see Redburn in his birthday suit again. I'm still scarred from the last time."

Derek kissed her on the head. "I know what you mean. I have to share a fucking shower with him." He paused. "Don't disappear."

"Wouldn't dream of it. But I do need to phone home before my cell explodes with texts."

"See you later?"

"Only if I don't see you coming first."

* * *

His room was empty. Not just absent of him, but all his things, all the possessions she was used to seeing around: The posters, the photos, the bric-a-brac of twenty two years of a guy's life.

Casey stood in the open door way and looked, unsure what she was feeling but definitely certain that she didn't like it.

"Did he get the flight okay?" James asked from behind her. Casey nodded without looking, not wanting him to see her face.

"He was lucky. The idiot set off the x-ray machine at security with that ridiculous belt he bought last week. They had to get him to take his pants off and he stood there in front of this tiny female security officer in boxers that said "Kiss my ass"."

"You saw all this?"  
Casey grinned and finally turned round. "Yeah. I watched him through the barriers into security. I saw him go through. He texted me later to berate me for pissing myself with laughter as I watched."

James saw the sadness in her eyes. "Did he say goodbye?" He asked softly.

Casey sighed. "I think there was a "So long, Spacey" in there some where."

"That's all he said?"

"Yeah…why?" Casey was confused.

James was too but for a different reason.

He couldn't believe Derek would just walk out of Casey's life like that without a proper goodbye. They were going to be living at opposite ends of the country for the foreseeable future: Derek playing for a top ranking hockey team, Casey in graduate school. James wasn't dumb. He didn't expect them to declare undying love in Departures, but from what he could see Derek had made no plans to meet up with Casey again. This was a guy who hadn't spent more than a week apart from his step-sister in nearly six years – a step-sister who was now his best friend. And here he was leaving it all to a "so long" and a vague possibility of them both attending future family gatherings. He was forced to wonder if Derek really was glad to be getting away from Casey after all.

Casey made her way to her room. Derek was gone. For the first time in six years there was a significant distance between them. Their conversations had always been unplanned disagreements when they stumbled across each other as they went about their lives. Communication between them now would have to be planned. Casey wasn't sure either of them was ready for that.

She hadn't _expected_ a romantic goodbye the way Jay had, but she had sort of expected him to use the 'g' word. She hadn't expected hugging or stuff, but a rough slap on the back wouldn't have gone amiss. And she certainly hadn't been expecting the sight of his empty room to play havoc with her feelings the way it was.

Casey missed him – and it hadn't even been two hours.

Pushing open the door to her room, Casey remembered the sight of Derek standing there in his silly state of undressed in Security. It should have made her laugh, but the most vivid thing was his eyes. Despite his manner towards her, the way his eyes locked on hers as he walked out of her sight – well that would be the only goodbye she was going to get.

As she entered the room she stopped. There on her perfectly made bed was an envelope _she_ hadn't left there. She stepped closer and saw the handwriting was Derek's scrawl. _Casey _it said simply.

Casey sat down on the bed, picked up the envelope and opened it.

There were three things inside: A ticket to a hockey match in three weeks, a return plane ticket to Vancouver also dated three weeks hence, and a post-it note.

"Be There!" It ordered.


	11. Words of Advice

**AN: Please please please…(in advance) if you don't like the little anecdote about Doc's son just ignore it don't leave flaming reviews about it. It won't come up again. I just needed a powerful reason for Derek to not turn into a manwhore…(other than the fact he's falling in love with his step-sister, of course).**

**I'm sure you can appreciate that.**

**

* * *

**

Derek pulled up outside the large mansion and whistled appreciatively. So far his new life as a major league hockey player had been a little of a disappointment in terms of the trappings of wealth. Sure, he had been given a (sponsored) car and a utility apartment, a key card to the team gym and a lump sum in his bank account, but it would be a while before he was toting a high maintenance girlfriend or appearing on CRIBS.

The house in front of him was something to aspire to, however, and he ran a speculative eye over the structure.

"You think this is big, you should see the team owner's." A voice said beside him, and he glanced at his team mate as they made to get out of the car. John stopped and put a hand on his arm. "Listen Coach is okay, but at some point today Doc will undoubtedly give you the old "keep it in your pants" line. Just remember, life is about more than just playing by the rules…life's about fun!"

Derek nodded, grinning and the pair exited the car.

"Venturi!" Coach Stevens greeted them when he opened the front door. "Glad you could make it. Grab a beer and join us out back." The older man lead the way as he spoke and they moved through the house to the back.

The rear terrace of the house was buzzing with people dressed casually, drinking beer and wine and talking loudly. Derek recognised some of his team mates from the practices earlier in the week. Occasionally, he recognised some of the females too, but few of the team were married, and the singletons tended to keep their conquests away from the management, probably mindful of Doc's early lecture when they were just starting out.

Derek circulated for a moment, led by John and he tried to relax. He felt young and nervous and more than a little in awe of these people whose world he had just joined; Most of the time he stood on the side-lines and said nothing. Amusement coloured his face as he wondered what Casey would make of his reluctance to go in there and charm.

He thought about the argument they had had earlier in the week and the amusement slid from his face. It was a testimony to how hard it was going to be keeping their _friendship (?)_ on an even keel now that they were so far apart. With the time difference and their busy schedules they were relying on the written word to communicate. The problem was where he could gauge his spoken tone just right so that it wound her up but didn't piss her off, putting the words into a text or an email meant he couldn't add the quirk of an eyebrow or that laser beam stare that would throw her off guard. On more than one occasion over the last week, Casey had fired back an angry email and he had been forced to ring her to ensure she didn't sever all ties.

The first occasion had been her reaction to the envelope left on her bed. He hadn't been sure how to say goodbye to her, because it was so hard to define _what_ Casey was. She wasn't his sister, of that he was sure. She wasn't even his step-sister because there was much more to them than that. They argued so much he didn't think that the term _friend_ was wholly appropriate, and he relied on her for so much he didn't want to use a term less expressive. She was just Casey.

And when he couldn't find a way to say goodbye, he decided not to and instead provided her with the means to come and see him as soon as possible so that they could work on the dynamics of their…_whatever_…now that he was in a different state.

Casey, however, whilst (he thought) appreciating the generous gift of a return plane ticket and tickets to his first exhibition game, did not appreciate the authorative Post-It.

"What the hell is this supposed to be?" She had barked down the phone to him. (His phone had begun ringing immediately he switched it on after his flight.) ""Be there?" What do you think I am, Derek? Your own personal little servant to click your fingers at?"

Fortunately, he refrained from the obvious answer to that.

At the rate he was going it was a moot point whether she was likely to use the tickets.

.

He had been there about an hour when Doc singled him out and began the lecture. It wasn't the first time someone had lectured him on these points. George had given him a much tamer version when he turned fourteen and started dating. It was basically a "wrap it or regret it" lecture. But Doc went further. He talked about how it was an ugly world out there and that some women made a living out of "hooking" the big time, by bedding the rich and famous and then fleecing them for every penny when they got pregnant or dumped.

The venom with which the head medic spoke made Derek wonder if he had been the victim of such a scam, but it wasn't until Doc had finished, nodded and moved away that Derek found his answer.

Still reeling from the stern words of the older man, Derek moved into the kitchen area in search of more alcohol and came across a pretty woman of about forty five wiping down surfaces. In a normal home, Derek would have assumed she was the lady of the house, but in view of the size of the house and the staff necessary to run it, he leaned more towards the housekeeper as her job title. It came as a surprise when she grinned broadly and stuck out her hand.

"Oh! You must be our new boy! Hi! I'm Susan. Or "Mrs Coach" to you." He looked into her eyes and saw a soul that could be the twin of Nora. He returned a genuine smile and held out his hand.

"You look slightly shell-shocked. Have you been talking to Doc?"

Derek stared at her in amazement. She smiled wryly.

"Let me guess. He gave you his "women are all hos out to trap you" speech?"

Derek nodded. Susan smiled.

"He sounded like he was talking from personal experience." He said finally. She shook her head.

"Not him. His son. Hardly an innocent boy but still…" She took a breath. "You'll find out Derek that Doc is exaggerating, but not by much. There are lots of girls out there who would give anything and everything to be seen with a hockey player, and I'm sure you'll be one of the most popular. But, Doc is right and there are some unscrupulous people too who will take advantage of the times when you've had a bit too much, those who will use everything in their power to sink their teeth into you – including their bodies. Doc's son lapped up the attention and enjoyed the girls who were around him; a different girl every day, sometimes more than one. Then one day he gets a call from a lawyer representing a girl who claimed he had gotten her pregnant. I'll cut a long story short and say that she was telling the truth. (Probably the only time she ever has.) She demanded money: money for herself and money to stop her selling her story. There was never any mention of money for the poor child. By this time, he had come to his senses and realised he had to do right by the child.

He paid. He paid everything she asked. Unfortunately, the little girl was born with Cerebral Palsy and requires a lot of care." Susan paused. "He loves his daughter – and Doc loves his granddaughter, but they never get to see her because the mother takes the money and won't allow access. But if you believe the papers, _he's_ the heartless one. She gives statements saying that he won't spend time with her because of her health issues. It's destroyed him."

"Hence the "wrap it" lecture." Derek said quietly.

Susan looked at him pointedly. "He did wrap it, Derek. In one of _her_ condoms. Like I said, there are some crazy people out there."

* * *

"Are you coming out this Friday?" John asked Derek a couple of weeks later. They were walking into the locker rooms after a training session in which Derek realised how little he _knew_ about hockey.

"Where are you going?"

"One of our usual haunts. Good food, bit of music…and then later we normally go on to a strip club."

Derek scratched his head. "I can't. My friend's coming for the game and I have to pick her up from the airport. I doubt she'll be into the stripper scene."

John chuckled. "She may surprise you. Is this a girlfriend?"

Derek shook his head. "Nah. Just a friend."

"A close friend?"

"Like brother and sister." He lied.

"Bring her with you for the meal and the dancing. There'll be some of the other girls there. They'll keep her company."

"I'll think about it." Derek wasn't sure he wanted to expose Casey to this lot. Knowing her luck she'd fall hook line and sinker for some moron defender who dipped it in too many pots.

"Is she hot?" John asked. "Maybe I can keep her company for you." Derek glared at him. Yeah…like _that _moron defender.

"When I said "sister" I meant the sort of girl that is off-limits, John."

"Hey come on…I'm not a bad guy, D."  
"Her mother would kill me." Derek said, pulling his shirt over his head. "And _I_ would kill _you_."

John wagged his eyebrows. "That hot huh?"

Derek groaned. "Off-limits, Dude. I'm serious."

"You cannot make decisions for the girl. It's bad karma. She'll never forgive you for passing up the opportunity for true love."

"True love? Since when did true love come with twenty one condoms in a variety of flavours?"

"You know you need to get out more, before the guys start thinking you're gay."

"The guys don't think I'm gay. They think I'm choosy. I'm still finding my feet in this game and they know that. Just because you're into Heinz 57 varieties doesn't mean the rest of us have to be."

"So that's a no to Friday then?"

Derek ran his hands through his hair. "I'll talk to Casey."

* * *

Casey's plane touched down on a sunny afternoon, and immediately the butterflies started. She wasn't sure why.

It was just Derek she was visiting, and it had only been three weeks, but her mind was still reeling from the fact he had sent her the tickets – and then phoned to apologise when she hadn't liked the tone of his note. This was all uncharted territory for them, and she found it unnerving.

Whilst they had been in Kingston together, they ignored the fact they were becoming closer. It was easy to do because they had no choice but to be near each other, so they just complained bitterly and made out they weren't together through choice. But the tickets and her presence here now belied that. And when she had explained to her new roommates that she would be away for the weekend, she used the term "friend" in reference to Derek – and meant it.

She grabbed her carry-on which was her only bag and made her way from the plane wondering if this visit would be a repeat of every argument they had ever had or whether by some quirk of fate they were both now capable of being nice to each other – openly.

As she exited into the Arrivals hall and her eyes roamed the crowds for her step-brother-cum-best-friend, Casey chuckled inwardly to herself and a small smile escaped onto her face.

"You're late." A voice said behind her. She spun round and fixed his brown eyes with her blue ones.

"Yes, well I told the pilot not to hurry because you were going to be late anyway." She said with a smirk.

"Some of us have a life, Casey." Derek was unimpressed.

"Remind me again why I left mine and came to spend my weekend with you."

He looked good, she decided sneaking a crafty once over; as though he was working out a bit more and eating a bit better. He'd upgraded his clothing slightly, the same style just more expensive, and he was swinging a BMW key on his finger.

He smirked. "Because you miss me."

Casey pulled a face as Derek threw an arm around her shoulders, leading her towards the exit.

"And I missed you." He said so quietly, she almost missed it.


	12. Friends

Derek took her to his tiny apartment in his loaned BMW. She made like she was impressed, but she nodded when he pointed out that it was all on loan from the team and if he got dropped from the squad it would all go back to where it came from.

"It's here now though." He said cheerily and Casey smiled back. She wondered when she and her step-brother had turned into pod people.

The little apartment was so small Derek was going to have to sleep on the couch so that Casey could take his room. He pretended briefly that he was going to make Casey sleep there, but in reality he had no intention of making her do any such thing.

She watched him fuss about the place, showing her things he had acquired in the short space of time they had been apart, and she saw before her a different Derek, a more open and honest Derek. Not that she thought he was dishonest, but it was like the difference between the Derek she saw every day and that Derek that she saw briefly on occasions like the night of their never-to-be-forgotten first party.

And when he'd finished fussing they stared at each other as though they had nothing to say.

"The guys want me to bring you out with us tonight…for food and dancing. You interested?" Derek was still reluctant and not just because of the possibility of a Casey disaster. He had spent some time with his team mates but he had yet to feel comfortable with them. Taking Casey out with them felt like entering the lion's den knowing that the big cat was only tranquilised and could wake at any moment.

"What do you want to do?"

He sighed. "I probably should go."

"Then we'll go."

He pulled a face.

"Or not." She amended. "Derek. Are you embarrassed that I'm here?"

"Oh god yeah! I think I'll die from the shame!" He chuckled at the look on her face.

"Strangely enough, Case, no I'm not embarrassed. It's just…I'm coasting along here, trying to settle into a life I've never lived before; into a life no one I _know_ has ever lived before. I have no reference point. I just have to do. And then just when I think I've got it sussed, you arrive and I'm reminded of who I am in reality."

Casey sat down on the couch. "Maybe I shouldn't have come."

Derek sat down beside her. "I didn't say that. If you look hard enough Casey I said the complete opposite. You're my reality check."

"Gee thanks!"

He smirked. "You know what? I think all I want to do tonight is kick back with a take out and a DVD."

Casey recognised good Derek when she saw it. "That's fine by me." She agreed.

Derek chuckled. "Of course, I get to choose the film – and the take out."

She rolled her eyes, but said nothing. Derek frowned.

"Come on…" He prompted.

"Come on what?" Casey asked.

"I think that warranted your usual…"

"My usual _what_?"

"You know."

"No I don't."  
"Case-y" he moaned.

"Der-ek!" She grinned and they both laughed.

* * *

The quiet movie night never happened. Just as they were about to leave to pick up the DVD and the food there was a knock at the door. Casey frowned at Derek who shrugged because he wasn't expecting anyone. Casey was closest to the door.

"You want me to get it?" She asked. He shrugged again.

Casey rolled her eyes and crossed to the door and Derek moved protectively behind the door out of sight.

It was John…and half of the team and they weren't expecting Casey to open the door.

For a moment, they stood there and gaped. Derek could totally understand why. Casey was wearing a typical student uniform of black skinny jeans and a t-shirt, but there was nothing typical about the figure underneath. Derek had already had several awkward heart-stopping moments when she moved around his apartment.

Casey waited for them to speak and John opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

"Can I help you?" Casey asked eventually, tired of being stared at.

"Definitely." Smirked one of the other guys and behind the door, Derek closed his eyes. _Nice._ He thought sarcastically.

"Oh?" Casey pushed.

"You must be Derek's…um…friend." John found his voice and as he turned away she thought she heard him say "Sister, my ass."

"No." Casey replied firmly.

"No?" John queried. "But this is definitely Derek's apartment."

Casey raised an eyebrow. "That as maybe, but I'm not his friend. Derek doesn't have any friends."

Derek snorted in the background. Casey glanced at him with a smirk.

"Really? Then what are you?" John asked.

Derek stepped out from behind the door. "She's my cleaning lady, and I pay her by the minute, so would you hurry it on up?"

Casey stepped back onto his foot deliberately and he caught her by the waist.

"I owed you for the "friend" comment." He murmured in her ear, leaving his arm in place and inwardly cursing Casey for bringing out the territorial jerk in him.

"You're supposed to be bringing your "friend" out with us tonight."

"She's jet-lagged. We're having a quiet one."  
One of the other guys snorted. "I bet you are!"

Casey fixed him with fiery blue eyes. The smile disappeared from his face. Derek grinned.

"She doesn't look jet-lagged to me. Come out with us, honey. If you get tired you can sleep on me."

John flicked the guy a look. "Why not? Every other female in the district has."

"Pot meet Kettle." A third guy said.

There was a sigh from the back of the group and a petite female pushed her way through the crowd.

"Jesus you're a bunch of morons!" She exclaimed and held out her hand to Casey. "Ignore them, sweetheart. They think with their dicks but their hearts are in the right place. I'm Kerry. That lump over there is called Stu." She indicated one of the as yet silent team. "I'm his wife and for my sins I get to spend all my down time with this lot. I'm desperate for some decent conversation – of the evolved kind. Come join us."

Casey grinned and flicked a questioning glance at Derek who sighed.

"Why not?" he said. "They'll only keep on pestering us until we give in anyway."

"Then we'll come." Casey said still smiling at Kerry.

* * *

"Tell me something Kerry." Casey said over the Caesar salad she had ordered. "If you like evolved conversation. Why did you marry a hockey player?"

Derek narrowed his eyes at her as Kerry chuckled.

"Well unlike most of the WAGS I'm not with him for his money or his awesome bod because I married him before he had either. And he can't divorce me because I have too many secrets of his." Casey raised an eyebrow. "I was around when he was in diapers…" Kerry explained. Casey laughed and her eyes met Derek's.

"I have a few stories myself." Casey said. Neither of them pointed out she wasn't a WAG.

"So how did you meet Derek?" Kerry explained, and Casey realised she was under a misapprehension.

"He's my step-brother." She announced loudly. The background noise on their table stopped.

John stared at Derek. "I thought you were joking."

Casey frowned.

"I told him you were like a sister to me." Derek explained. Casey's eyes widened and she shivered.

"Step-sister." She corrected.

Derek smirked. "Same difference."

Casey stuck her tongue out at him and Derek laughed.

Kerry watched them in amusement.

"How long have your parents been married?" She asked.

"Nearly seven years." Casey explained. "We were fifteen."

"Ouch." Kerry said. Derek grinned but his eyes never left Casey's.

"You could say that."

"How did it work out?"

Derek and Casey broke the trance.

"I'll let you know." Casey said quietly.

.

The evening passed pleasantly. The food was nice, and once they realised that Casey was only going to be a sister to them, Derek's teammates started the teasing. She didn't mind because she was used to teasing. She could handle that.

Derek found himself getting more comfortable around the older guys and started to relax. By the time the evening came to an end, both he and Casey were firmly accepted as part of their group.

* * *

They left the bar with Kerry and Stu because the others were going on to the topless bar. Kerry winked as she hugged Casey goodbye at the kerbside, urging her to join her to watch the game from the rink-side.

Derek and Casey walked to find a cab, his arm slung across her shoulders.

"You're quiet." He said.

"Are you complaining?" She asked.

"Of course not. It's just I get used to the background whine."

Casey stopped and looked at him. "Don't worry. I'm sure the Tinnitus will stop now your _sister_ lives the other side of the country."

He grinned. "You know why I said that." He pointed out.

Casey frowned and then her eyes widened. "Male Code Blue!" She exclaimed and he didn't miss the relief in her voice. Then she frowned again. "What makes you think I don't want to date one of your team mates?"

"You like evolved conversation, remember?"

"Yes." She said thoughtfully, pulling herself away from him. "Begs the question what the hell am I doing anywhere near you!" She said, and then giggled.

"Right! That does it!" Derek announced pouncing towards her. Casey squealed and ran away. Derek chased after her causing a few heads to turn, and by the time her caught up with her, they were by the rank of cabs.

.

They poked fun at each other all the way home in the cab and Casey continued to tease Derek when he immediately took himself into the kitchen to make himself a sandwich.

"You never change." She said, leaning on the kitchen door post.

"Nah. What's the point?" He said, biting into one of his usual monster concoctions. He finished the mouthful. "Let's see what the late movie is on TV." He suggested.

"Sounds great, but I warn you I'll probably fall asleep. All that travelling…"

He smiled. "We'll pull all the cushions onto the floor, get pillows and blankets, and camp in the living room. Then if you fall asleep I don't have to haul your ass to bed."

"Okay." Casey said.

They did exactly that, getting changed before crawling into the two makeshift beds. Derek had turned the light off to watch the film, and in the dark it felt more intimate.

After a while, Casey propped herself up on her elbow.

"Are you happy?" She asked him quietly. Derek didn't look at her.

"Ecstatic." He said wryly. "About what exactly?"  
She shrugged. "Your career choice, the team…"

Derek still didn't look. "You met them. They're cool."

"Yes but, are you happy?"  
He sighed and rolled onto his side, looking across the short distance towards her.

"I'm happy I've got the chance to make a go of this." He said. "I'm happy that I can do something I love and get paid for it." He combed his hair with his fingers. "Is it hard? Hell yes! Do I regret it? Sometimes. Do I want to walk away from it?" No."

"What's the hardest thing?" Casey asked still softly.

"The socialising. Trying to balance making friends without making stupid life choices."

"Like what?"

"Like the club tonight."

"Oh."

"It's difficult to say no to them when you aren't here. They think I'm gay because I don't want to join them on their pussy-finding trips." He glanced at her. "I'm not talking cats there by the way."

Casey sighed. "Stay true to yourself Derek. There will be temptations but you've never been a follower, you've always led the herd. Don't do what they expect of you cut your own path."

He nodded. "When are you coming back, Casey?"

"I don't know. This isn't like college, grad school is more important. I can't take lots of time off."

They were quiet for a moment pondering their situations.

"Case, when I email I don't mean to piss you off…well not most of the time anyway."

"I know." Casey said in a sad tone.

"I guess it will be Christmas then…at home. Before I…see you again." Derek tried to be cheery.

"Yeah. Derek…be careful. And before you do anything stupid ask yourself - " Casey start to say, but he interrupted.

"I know I know, would Casey approve?"

"Actually, I was going to say ask yourself would I want Marti to know about this. You're going to be living your life in the spot light now. Everything you do will get back to the fam." Casey explained. And he saw her point.

"And to you." He interjected.

"Yeah but I don't count. Most of the stuff you do annoys me. That's why you do it. Just don't…"

"What?"

"There will be girls, and drink and maybe other stuff…just don't, Derek."

"You think I'm going to turn into an alcoholic dope head?"

"No, of course not, even you're not _that_ stupid. But the girls…"

His eyes grew big "…I know. You should see some of them Casey!" He said with exaggerated eagerness.

Casey looked appalled.

"I'm joking, Spacey. No girls."

She looked disbelievingly at him this time.

"What?" He tried to look innocent. "I mean of course there will be girls, just not _those_ girls."

"Promise me you'll be more discerning?"

"You sound like Abby." He smirked. "Or jealous. Which is it Casey?"

She went quiet and even in the half light he could tell she had blushed. And it unnerved both of them.

Derek coughed.

Maybe they needed a little space from each other.

* * *

**AN: For the uninitiated W.A.G = Wives and Girlfriends. In England, it is normally applied to football (i.e. soccer).**

**Next chapter jumps forwards in time slightly.**

**Meant to say this in yesterday's update...ONE YEAR on FanFiction!**


	13. Vacation

**Two years later.**

"OOooo! Is that the latest issue of Hello?" squeed Blonde 1.

Casey smiled to herself as the two blonde girls beside her bonded over a magazine despite the fact they had clearly never met before. She wasn't normally an eavesdropper, or at least that's what she told herself, but it was too tempting when it was _this_ sort of gossip.

"Yes. It's got a massive section on break-ups. Apparently, every one is breaking up at the moment." Blonde 2 said.

"Really? Like who?" Blonde 1 again.

"Well, the biggest news as you know is that Derek is single again."

"Yeah! I saw that! Ha! I never liked that Angela girl. She always seemed a little...false, ya know. And I don't just mean her breasts…although I'm fairly sure they're straight out of a catalogue."

_They are. _Thought Casey burying her head in her own "home and garden" magazine. _She once made me squeeze them_. Casey shuddered at the memory.

"So any word on who he's hooked up with now? Guys like him are never single for long."

_You can say that again._ The brunette beside them snickered. She kept an ear half open to the conversation because whilst she didn't believe a word that was published in the gossip magazines, it was always amusing to hear what they were saying about Derek and the people she knew so well.

Of course the bit about him breaking up with Angela was true. Casey sighed. They never lasted long with Derek. He might not sleep around, but he was definitely what was laughingly called a serial monogamist.

"It says here that he is claiming to be on a break from dating. Apparently, the last season, winning the league title for the second time and everything left him needing decent R&R. He's off to some private island in the Caribbean. Poor thing. I bet he could do with a really good massage. I'm great at those. You know…hot oil, low lights. Maybe I should send his agent my card."

Casey coughed to herself to hide a laugh.

"So no love interest then?" The other blonde asked.

"Well just the usual. That brunette he's always seen with and a couple of faux-celebs who want in on the milch cow."

"Are there more sightings of him and that girl again then?"

"Not this week. But you know how it goes. There are lots of pictures of them together for a while and then she disappears again. And the pictures are never close to, so no one can see who she is."

"She's been there through all the girlfriends though so she can't _be_ anybody. She's probably just support staff or something. And she's brunette. He only goes for blondes." She noted, fingering her own yellow locks.

Casey rolled her eyes and then she was pulled from her amusement by the appearance of her hair stylist at her side.

"Hi Casey! How are you? What are we doing today?"

"Hi Amanda! I need a bit of a trim and a tidy. I'm off on my vacation tomorrow."

"Lucky you! Going anywhere nice?"

"Yes actually. The Caribbean."

* * *

He was swimming when she arrived. This wasn't the first time she had been to the private villa he occasionally rented to get away from it all so she knew her way down from the upper terrace to the large infinity pool below. But she paused a moment, surveying the blue sky and sea, and the white sand of the beach along the coast. Then she let her eyes fall on her step-brother's form below. For a guy who spent so much of the year around ice, he had a remarkably sun-kissed body – not tanned as such but definitely not pale.

"You wanna come down here and ogle me. You'll get a better view?" Derek called up to her and she started from her daydream and noted he was now floating on his back looking up at her.

"In your dreams, wiseass!" She called back.

"Nah! Definitely in yours."

By the time she made it down the steps to the poolside he was pulling himself out of the water. Casey eyed him warily.

"What?" He asked innocently.

"Last time I came any where near the side of this pool while you were here I ended up in the pool fully clothed." She said, sliding off the tailored jacket that matched her tailored shorts. She placed it on a lounger nearby along with her purse.

"Don't come near me fully clothed then." He smirked. He took a step towards her, towelling his hair off as he went, and she took a step backwards.

"Oh come on Casey. I was only going to say hello."

She snorted. "I know better than to trust you." She stated firmly. He grinned and threw his wet towel at her.

"Ew! Der-ek!" She protested. He laughed and ran at her, picking her up and leaping with both of them into the pool. They hit the water with an almighty splash. A short time later, Casey emerged spitting water.

"You moron! I could have had my passport or my phone on me."

Derek shook his wet hair again. "Well if you have, honey, I've no idea where you're keeping them."

"Next time I'm going to vacation with Edwin." She threatened.

Derek snorted. "The last time he went on vacation was to Iceland and the fucking volcano erupted." He swam towards the side and hauled himself out for a second time. Casey followed suit, emerging from the water looking very wet indeed. Derek's eyes widened and he threw her a towel.

"Here. Your need is greater than mine." He said. Casey looked down at her clothes and realised the white sleeveless shirt was now see-thru.

"Great. Just what I need."

"Aw! Come on Casey. It was just a little fun. You work too hard, loosen up. We got great weather, good fun, plenty to drink..." He glanced at her shirt pointedly. "…fantastic views. Not forgetting amazing company."

"I'm going to change." She said huffily. Derek grinned at her retreating back.

"Me too, but I'll send someone in to you with a drink. What would you like?"

"Some of Anna's local orange juice would be nice." She called back, and he knew he was already forgiven.

* * *

"So…Angela…" Casey said as they walked down to the beach in the warm evening air. Derek was wearing a pair of men's Capri pants and a ridiculously bright Bermuda shirt. He had his arm around her shoulder and she had wrapped her own arm around his waist.

"Inevitable."

"What was the final straw?" Casey asked her hair and her white cotton dress getting teased by a slight breeze.

Derek shrugged. "She wanted me to pay for her next trip under the surgeon's knife."

"And you weren't interested?"

"She was fake enough as it was. Grabbing her chest was like picking up one of Robbie's little plastic soccer balls."

He expected a "ew! Der-ek!" But she surprised him.

"I know." Casey said simply.

Derek choked. "What?"

"She made me squeeze them one time." Casey explained.

Derek turned a funny colour and it was a while before he spoke.

"My ex-girlfriend had you squeeze her tits?"

"Yes. We were waiting for you to get out the shower so that we could all go to dinner and she grabbed my hand and put it on her chest, saying "here…this is what a decent pair feels like." I think I threw up a little."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not that way inclined Derek and even if I was, there would be some thing insanely _wrong_ about being in that situation with my step-brother's girlfriend."

"No. I meant why did she say that to you?"

"Heaven knows, D. She wasn't exactly the most stable of people."

"Oh I don't know. She wasn't as bad as Grace."

"Derek, no one on the planet could be as bad as Grace. You certainly know how to pick them. You know, after the run of women you've put us through over the past two years (over the past eight years even), I'm almost at the point of telling you to just poke anything in a skirt and screw relationships."

"You're starting to sound like me."

She sighed dramatically. "That's because I spend too much time with you."

Derek frowned. "I only saw you six times last year."

"Yeah and I'm starting to think it was maybe six times too much."

He looked away. "You serious?" He asked carefully.

Casey sighed. "No." His body relaxed against hers. "But honestly Derek, can't you be a bit more discriminating. I mean I know they are nice enough girls, but a brain cell or two wouldn't go amiss. Someone I could have a decent conversation with."

Derek looked at her in shock. "You _talk_ to one of my girlfriends? God help us! You'd tell them all sorts of stuff I'd rather they didn't know."

"But Derek…"

"But nothing. I'm not ready to settle down. When I'm ready to settle down maybe I'll find someone Casey-approved. Just be grateful I'm not a hockey-whore."

"You're still only using them for their bodies, Derek."

"And they aren't using _me_?"

She frowned. "I know. I just…we're not getting any younger and I know you want children."

"Thanks Casey. I'm in my mid-twenties, hardly past it. I've got time for kids."

"Yes but not with every girl on this side of Canada."

His whole demeanour changed.

"I don't screw around, Casey. I'm very careful. There won't be an accidental Venturi."

His eyes were hard as he spoke and Casey found herself dropping her gaze. "Sorry."

Derek's eyes softened. "Anyway. A better question would be when did you last get laid?"

"Der-ek!" Casey blushed. She didn't want to answer this question. He would laugh at her answer because they were poles apart in that department. It never occurred to her that he would also be relieved; that her virginity mattered to him in ways it shouldn't.

"What happened to the last loser?" He asked. "I can't remember his name." (Which was a lie, because he remember the name of everyone Casey dated: name, date of birth, social security number…psychological profile…)

"Work took over." Casey stated. "Can we just drop this?"  
"No. What do you mean "work took over"?"

Casey tried to look casual but she couldn't tell him the truth, namely that she had dumped the guy because she suddenly realised that she was dating someone who looked like Derek – although the official excuse she had used was that her job was getting busy and she was juggling her writing and her day job without time for a relationship.

He looked like Derek, but he wasn't Derek. Too many times she expected him to behave like Derek and when he didn't…he went.

"I'm not discussing this with you, Derek, because it's none of your business."

"And _my_ sex life is _your_ business?"

"I didn't say that…I…oh forget it!"

She looked upset and he immediately regretted pushing her.

"Sorry." He murmured kissing her temple and then in an effort to distract he went on.

"I've got news."

"Oh." She said sulkily.

"I'm coming to stay with you next month."

Casey turned to face him, complete shock on her face. "Stay with me?"

"Yeah…if you're around. I need to come to Toronto and I thought…"

"Yes!" She said before he could ask.

"And I thought maybe I could shack up with you for a few nights, you know rampant mind-blowing sex…"

Casey elbowed him. "Ass-hole."

He opened his mouth to say something definitely perverse.

"Don't even think about it Venturi." She warned.

"So I can come and stay with you?" he asked.

"In my _spare_ room." She insisted secretly pleased because he had never come to visit her since they had lived apart.

"Of course. Where else would I sleep?"

"Why are you coming to Toronto?" She asked after they'd grinned at each other.

"That's the other piece of good news." Derek said. "I'm house hunting."  
"You're what?"

"House hunting. I've decided to buy a proper house rather than rent. My endorsements have grown so big that I'm struggling to spend the income and my accountant tells me I need to invest in property. I'm buying a little apartment in Vancouver to last me during the season so I'm near the team, but I thought I'd buy a decent _home_ in Toronto."  
"Why Toronto?" Casey asked.

"It's near the family…but not too near."

"It's very near me though." She pointed out. "The same city in fact."

"Really? I hadn't noticed." He lied.


	14. House Hunting

"Okay." Casey said, sipping her breakfast tea. "There are four properties today. How do you want me to list them? Price, size or man-toys?"

"I'll go with man-toys." Derek replied and took a bite of his bacon sandwich.

"First, is the penthouse with the balcony and hot tub."

Derek shook his head. "I want something with grounds. You know, somewhere for Robbie and Lizzie to kick my butt at soccer and a pool…definitely a pool."

"Well that rules out two of the properties." Casey said, laying the printouts to one side. "Leaving two. Two seems a manageable number. You want me to call the realtor and set up a viewing?"  
"Sounds good. I'm not going over to London until tonight anyway so anytime up till four. Will you come with me?"

"To look at the houses or to London?"  
"Both."

Casey nodded. "Mom already invited me, and to be honest I don't trust you with something as important as buying a house. You'll pick the one with the gym and media room and completely forget about issues such as maintenance charges and crime levels."  
"There's a house with a media room?" Derek sat up and paid attention.

Casey groaned. "I knew I shouldn't mention that. That house is in an area which is a bit rural. You don't have neighbours to watch the place while you're away."

"Casey. These are multi-million dollar houses. You don't _need_ neighbours to watch over the house. You pay beef-cakes large sums of money to wear a uniform and carry a nightstick."

"I know. It's the principle of the thing."

Derek chuckled. "You never change do you?" It was said with an affection she wouldn't have expected from the Derek of her teenage years, but they had grown up since then: moved on, become better friends.

"I change…I used to plot how to get away with your cold-blooded murder, but I don't anymore." She grinned.

"I'm glad to hear it. Did you come up with anything?"

"Yup." She said standing up to go and get dressed. "Poisoning your bacon."

Derek stared at the half-eaten sandwich in horror.

* * *

"Mr and Mrs Venturi! How lovely to meet you!"

"But I…" Casey started. Derek smirked.

The suited man in front of her ignored her and put an arm around Derek's shoulders. He had researched Derek only enough to know that he was a pro-hockey player with a serious amount of money to spend. He made assumptions and hadn't even bothered to look for a wedding ring.

Derek glanced over his shoulder at the smartly suited Casey, looking every bit the business woman in contrast to his jeans and t-shirt. He smiled to himself and turned back to the guy beside him. The two men walked towards the house trailing Casey with her clipboard and carefully printed out questions and checklist.

"So. As you can see we have this lovely circular driveway and fountain with space for four cars to comfortably unload at the same time. There is a side driveway to the triple garage which also has accommodation above it for your security team."

Derek nodded as though he was used to this but the reality was he had never bought a house before - only rented apartments. His eyes were still goggling at the size of the property which Casey had assured him – after consultation with his accountant – that he could afford.

"The front of the house is in a mock English-Georgian style with stone facing and large windows. Shall we go take a peek inside?"

_I want more than a peek._ Casey thought. _We're going to do this thoroughly or not at all._

"And inside we have a lovely bright atrium with white with black lozenge marble floor and a wide sweeping staircase. We'll start downstairs I think and then move up to the bedrooms."

They moved through the house, having several "peeks". In fact, Derek thought if the guy didn't stop describing it as "having a peek" he was going to be quite _piqued_ himself. Casey was busy ticking and crossing things off on her clipboard. She was gradually getting used to being referred to as Mrs Venturi – and also quite used to being ignored…until she started asking the awkward questions then the realtor glared at her.

So far the house was like all the others they had seen, ticking most of Casey's checklist: grounds (Derek), a good-sized kitchen (Casey), enough bedrooms for the whole McDonald-Venturi clan to stay at the same time (Both), Pool (Derek), Media room (Derek), low crime (Casey), minimal maintenance charge to a reputable maintenance contractor (Casey). In fact, Derek had wondered for an amused moment who was moving into this house, him or Casey?

The thing that was missing for Casey was the _wow_ factor: something that made you go all wobbly at the knees and make you pay over the odds. They hadn't seen it on the previous houses, and so far, after they had covered the ground floor and the pool/gym house, they hadn't seen it here.

They went back into the house to ascend the massive staircase, Derek hanging back to talk to Casey.

"What do you think?" He asked in a whisper.

"It's nice, but no wow factor yet. Do you like it?"  
"I love it. But then I loved the others too. And that last one had that bowling lane…" He shrugged. "Maybe the _wow_ factor is in the bedrooms." He said with a smirk. Casey snorted and he laughed throwing the possessive arm around her again.

The realtor was saying something about bathrooms as he walked, leading them along the corridor at the top of the stairs, white panelled doors on both sides. He stopped at the far end.

"There are two bedrooms which could be used as Masters." He said. "But the current owners use _this_ one and I'm sure you'll see why when we get inside."

He threw open the door to the room, and they stepped inside.

Casey gasped. It was a modern take on the four-poster bed theme, but all light and bright rather than heavy and canopied. The walls were pale pastel green and the wardrobes and interior doors were the same white wood and panelled. A warm oak four poster bed dominated the room but the thing which immediately caught Casey's attention was the set of open doors leading onto a balcony.

"Oh!" She gasped drifting across the room and through the doors. The sight which met her eyes was truly beautiful.

Below the balcony was a garden, beautifully laid out and tended but with the wildness of an English country cottage. It was a riot of colour and in the warmth of the summer weather, the smells weaving the way up to her nose were heavenly.

Inside, Casey could hear Derek asking the realtor the questions she had primed him to ask at this point for all of the properties, but she didn't care about the answers. He would choose which ever property he liked.

But it was this one which had won Casey's heart.

After several minutes of leaning on the railing of the balcony, Casey sensed she wasn't alone and turned to see Derek standing beside her.

"You okay?" He asked, concerned.

"Yes. It's just…"

Derek put an arm around her. "It's just you like this balcony, don't you?"

"It's not that, Derek. It's the garden. It's just so…Frances Hodgson Burnett."

He frowned. She smiled. "The Secret Garden."

"That the one with the love triangle?" He asked and because she knew Derek, she knew that he knew the book she was talking about. And that the characters were young children.

"Do you always have to be so obnoxious?" She demanded.

"Probably." He smirked. Casey ignored him and turned back to look at the garden.

"We should go down and look at it." Derek said softly, knowing he was breaking across her concentration. She smiled at him.

"Really?"

"Sure."

The realtor showed them the way and then left them to it. The garden did indeed have a wall around it and as they walked, they could hear the trickling of water from somewhere. Casey tugged Derek's hand pulling him towards the sound, but she couldn't find it…until Derek swept back a cloud of ivy to reveal a tiny fountain.

She laughed and it went straight to her eyes in the form of a twinkle.

"Wow!" She exclaimed. "The house is nice, lovely even, but I never expected this. It's breath-takingly beautiful!"

"Yes. It is." Derek murmured, but they weren't talking about the same things.

.

They walked through the garden for a few moments and then Casey realised they had been there longer than anywhere else in the house – and that she was still holding Derek's hand. She dropped it quickly, embarrassed.

"Sorry. We should go."

"Yeah." Was his only response.

They walked back down the path to the house again, ready to meet the realtor.

"What do you think?" The guy asked as they reappeared.

Derek glanced at Casey who was looking back towards the garden.

"I think I'd like to make an offer."

Her head shot round quickly to look at him. Derek ignored her.

The suited man beamed.

.

Later as they drove away from the house, offer accepted and the wheels set in motion, Casey turned to Derek.

"What about the bowling alley?" She asked.

He scratched at the side of his nose. "What use is one bowling lane? I like to play in teams."

* * *

By the time the end of the summer approached and the preparations for the hockey season were underway, Derek was moved into his house. Of course, that involved the purchase of lots of furniture since he had always rented furnished before, but Casey loved the shopping trips.

That summer he saw more of her than he had since he had left for Vancouver, and more than ever he was glad he had made the decision to move to Toronto.

Shortly before he left for Vancouver, Casey and the rest of the family helped him move, and from the laughter and joy as everyone mucked in to help, he wasn't the only one happy that he was home in Ontario.

In the midst of the confusion of moving, they grilled food on the terrace out the back, and as the warm afternoon drew to a close, Casey took Nora to see the garden.

Her mother loved it as much as she did. When Casey described how Derek had looked around the house and made the decision after seeing the garden, Nora had looked suspiciously at her step-son. He had coughed and changed the subject leaving her with half an idea in her mind.

Casey remained with Derek when the rest of the family left, because they had a two hour journey home, and hers was fifteen minutes. As the car left the house, Nora turned her head to look back at the door where Casey was standing beside Derek waving. They weren't touching, weren't even close but Nora's half-idea grew in her mind.

* * *

"Look at all the boxes!" Casey said when the family were out of sight and they had returned indoors. Derek groaned.

"Leave them till tomorrow. We'll get an early start and unpack then."

Casey glanced at him. "_We_?"

"Yeah. You and I both know you're dying to let loose on my kitchen cupboards and set up some system or other."

Casey blushed and Derek laughed.

"Busted, Babe!" he said making his 'Bs' hard and forceful. Then he moved to sit on the large staircase. "Are you staying?" he asked lightly.

"I haven't got my toothbrush and stuff."

"Nora stocked up. There's a bag around here somewhere. Stay Case. We'll set up the TV in my room and watch a movie. Then you'll already be here in the morning for the early start."

"Your room?"

"I've only got the energy to make one bed tonight."  
She narrowed her eyes. "Mom did that for you, as well you know."  
Derek chuckled and stood up. "Yup and I can't be bothered to make you up one of the spare rooms, so you'll have to sleep in my room."

"And where will you sleep?"

"With you. We've slept in the same bed before."

"Not through choice, Derek."

"Casey." He whined. "What do you think I'm going to do? Jump you?"

"Well it's been a while since you had sex and your libido is probably…"

"You do realise you sound like Queen Victoria right now don't you?" He interrupted. "Now get your ass upstairs and clean your teeth while I figure out a: how to set the house alarm and b: where the fuck the TV went to."

Casey sighed, wishing that she could think of an appropriate come-back but all she could manage as she started up the steps was a history lesson.

"Actually, Queen Victoria was far from a prude. She had sculptures of naked men and women all over her home, and paintings of ladies in the nude which rumour had it were actually posed for by her ladies-in-waiting. And of course she and Prince Albert had a very vigorous sex life. Hence all the children and…"

"Jesus Casey! Are you trying to kill me. Get! Now!" He half-shouted. Casey, shocked, darted up the stairs as quickly as she could…and then back down again to grab a shopping bag from the top of a pile of boxes.

"Toothbrush." She said by way of explanation before running up the stairs again.

It took him a while to figure out the alarm system: a while and a false alarm which he then had to phone through to the call centre to assure them that all was well. In the meantime, Casey had realised that Edwin had connected the flat screen TV in Derek's room, so the missing TV was already screwed to the wall.

Derek came up the stairs looking tired, happy and evidently hungry because he was carrying a bag of chips. Casey looked at the food with a raised eyebrow.

"It's the off season, Casey. Everyone relaxes a little on the off-season."

He grabbed pyjamas and changed in the en-suite and by the time he came out, Casey was tucked up in bed.

He was proud of the way the shock of suddenly seeing her there didn't show on his face but he cursed himself inwardly. These "moments" with Casey were different moments. They weren't the playful banter between friends of their college years, they were definitely something more. Derek wasn't sure where this whole life path was going or if he wanted to stop it. Correction: If he _even_ wanted to stop it.

"What?" Casey asked from her position propped up in _his_ bed.

"You seriously _don't_ want to know." He muttered, and pulling back the covers, climbed in beside her.

The playful banter resumed quickly as they picked holes in the movie. Casey fell asleep against Derek's shoulder halfway in. Whilst he turned the TV and adjusted his pillow so that he was lying down, the movement hardly dislodged her in her sleep.


	15. Calm

Casey was already up and by the sounds of it, unpacking Derek's kitchen when he woke the following day. He showered, dressed and came down the stairs to find her simultaneously making pancakes and placing pots and pans in one of the carousel cupboards.

"Two jobs aren't enough for you, McDonald? Now you want to add "housekeeper" to the mix?"

She pulled a face but said nothing, avoiding his eyes. Derek frowned, wondering what was up with her.

"What's eating you?" He asked bluntly, subtlety not being something he aspired to very often.

Casey glared at him and started bashing said saucepans together in a way that told him even if he had only suspected it that she was definitely pissed at him.

"Casey. I have absolutely no idea what I've done. I've been asleep for the last eight and a half hours, and as far as I can remember everything was fine when you started snoring. So unless I did something in my sleep for which I can't be held accountable…"

She huffed and went to brush past him, but he caught her arm. "Princess?" And then when her eyes met his, "…I did do something in my sleep didn't I?"  
"I woke up in your arms." Casey said. "You complained in your sleep when I tried to leave."

Derek was still holding her arm and he dropped it.

"Oh."

"Yes 'Oh'."

He smirked. "It could have been worse. I could have been dry humping you or something."

There was a pause and Casey didn't laugh. Derek frowned. "Casey, did I dry hump you?"  
"Not exactly. Your hands were under my top and stroking my skin and you were kissing the back of my neck." _The same neck which was currently turning a very vivid shade of purple._

"Oh…I must have been dreaming about Miss October again." He said flippantly.

It wasn't that he was bothered he had tried to cuddle with her in his sleep, but, he was definitely bothered that she was bothered. Casey looked unimpressed. He caught her by the waist and carefully removed the griddle pan from her right hand.

"So what? I'm not allowed to be affectionate with my best friend now?" Derek said, pulling her towards him. Casey reluctantly let him – which was a victory of its own.

"I'm sure Sam would love you to get affectionate." Casey teased. Derek smiled.

"You don't see yourself as my best friend?" he asked.

"Of course not. That would imply we were friends."

"What are we Casey?"

"I don't know. This is getting to be a very boring, very repetitive conversation."  
"I know. I think you are something, but I don't think there is a name for the combination of things that you are to me." He smirked. "At least not something that I could repeat in polite company."

"That's okay, Derek you're never _in_ polite company."

"Ouch…you wound me…and yourself."

Casey shook her head in despair. "What am I going to do with you?" She asked exasperatedly.

He shrugged. "I don't know. What _are_ you going to do with me?"

"Der-ek!"

And with that the specifics of why she was cross with him were gone.

* * *

Life proceeded apace. Derek's career bloomed and so did Casey's. About a month after Derek moved house, Casey's now completed novel was picked up by an agent and shortly afterwards she scored a book deal. Derek was both proud and pissed off about it. The latter emotion arriving because she refused to let him read her novel until it was published.

Nora had read it, and gushed effusively as a mother should – although she swore she would be as enthusiastic if she knew nothing about the author. George read it – he said- although he could only tell you the sort of information you might find on the back of the jacket. Derek snorted and told his father he'd get him the Cliff notes the following Christmas.

Everyone it appeared was allowed to read it, except Derek.

Casey said it was because he would be too critical, and to be honest she was probably right. However, when the final draft was with the printers she got hypersensitive about the book saying that it would be a disaster because Derek _hadn't_ read it. He, she announced, would have nitpicked the manuscript to death and therefore made it right.

Derek chuckled at the most important woman in his life. He just couldn't win.

The book deal was for four books because the first book was part one of a story in four parts. And it became an instant success. Off the back of it, Casey resigned from her day job because she was in demand, touring and making appearances. She was also seeing less of Derek. Suddenly, he realised what the past few years had been like for her when there had been long periods of time when _he_ was away. So, during the off-season at least, he changed his schedule to try to ensure that he was around when she was…although he never told her.

By the time his season resumed, Casey was abroad again but he couldn't resent it – partly because he knew it was her turn for success and partly because he had buried himself in another "companion". He treated the girl with respect and affection but he knew that the relationship fell short of love because it wasn't overwhelming and he knew she wouldn't be his priority in life.

It had always been like this, although it had often taken him a while to realise it. Now was different, however. Since he made the decision to move to Toronto he had approached his dating life with the same question. "You're on a date with X. Casey calls because she's locked herself out. Do you a) Flip Casey off and pull the plug from the wall? b) Phone a locksmith and pay him double to bump her up the queue? c) Take the girl with you to go and help Casey into her apartment? d) Dump the girl and high-tail it to Casey?

If he ever chose something other that d) he would know he was in love.

It hadn't happened yet.

* * *

"Derek? It's Casey."  
"Casey who?"  
"Nice try, wise-guy. Like you'd forget your step-sister."  
"Would that be the one with the disgusting personal habits or the lovely one who sends me iTunes gift cards on my birthday?"  
"I don't have disgusting personal habits. I am very careful about my personal hygiene."

"Oh hi Lizzie! I didn't recognise your voice. Where's my latest iTunes card?" He joked.

"Der-ek!" Casey screeched forcing Derek to hold the phone away from his ear.

"Oh…no iTunes gift cards then." He said sadly.

"So Lizzie's your favourite now?" The hurt in her voice was touching.

"Yeah…at least she doesn't phone me in the middle of sex."

_Derek, Derek, Derek…why do you tease her so much? And why just lately is everything about sex?_

"In the middle of…_what?_" Casey was momentarily confused, then realisation struck. "Oh my god! Der-ek!" There was a _click_ as she hung up.

Derek stared at the disconnected phone in amusement and then dialled her number.

"Relax Princess. That was a joke." He said when she answered.

"Not a very funny one."  
Derek smirked to himself. "_I_ thought it was. Anyway, I'm alone right now. Just me…oh and my right hand. Do you know I think I'm getting RSI?"

_Click_. The phone-line went dead again.

When she finally answered the next time, her first words were calm and serious.

"This is your last chance, moron. One single euphemism or innuendo and I'm changing my phone number and reporting you to the phone company."

"Prude."  
"I am not a prude."

"Are so."

"Am not."

"Are."

"Not. Look jerk! I need an escort!" She broke across his little game.

There was a silence.

"Try looking in the Yellow Pages under Personal Services." Derek said with amusement.

"Not _that_ kind of escort! I need a guy to stand beside me and look good in a tux."

Another silence.

"Try looking in the Yellow Pages under Personal Services." he repeated. "Wait…was that a compliment, Casey? Wow! Finally she admits it. I am perfection."

"A Perfect pain in the ass."

"Aw…only to remind you I'm here."

He heard her inhale. "Derek, please. I'm in trouble and I need you to help me without all the snarky comments."

"Okay." He relented. "Shoot."

* * *

"Stop fussing with your bow tie." Casey came into the room wearing an evening dress and fitting earrings into her pierced ears.

"You made it too tight."  
"I don't think I made it tight enough."  
"Casey I can barely breath."

"Yes but you can talk. I definitely didn't make it tight enough."  
Derek frowned and leant towards Casey. "I didn't realise VPL was making a comeback." He snarked. **(VPL = Visible Panty Line)**

"I don't have VPL, Derek"

"Well from here it looks like you do." He lied again.

"I don't have VPL, Derek because I'm not wearing panties."

His eyes met hers in astonishment. Casey realised what she had said and blushed.

"I mean I'm wearing a special all-in-one that specifically doesn't have VPL." She amended. "And now I've spent more than enough time discussing my underwear choices with you, do you think we can get in the car and go?"

He smirked. "Nervous?"

"Of course I'm nervous. I've never been to a literary award dinner before."

"You won't win anything." He said confidently…but he knew that was a lie. Casey had let him read the book as soon as it came out in hard back and whilst he knew that it would be good, because everything she worked hard at was a success, he hadn't expected to like it as much as he did even if one of the minor characters did bear a slight resemblance to himself.

"I'm not expecting to win anything. I'm just nervous because there will be all these high-brow people I respect in the room – and they're there for the same reason I am – they're authors. I just don't see how I can possible compare my scribblings with their profound works of genius."

"Neither do I. You're obviously an imposter and when we get there they'll take your invitation away from you and tear it up." Derek said, smirking.

Casey knew he was only saying it to wind her up, there wasn't even a formal invitation as such, but his words tapped into the dream she had had the previous night, and she felt bile rise at the thought.

Derek spotted the greenness around her gills. "You barf on my suit, Casey and you can pay Mr Armani for a new one."

"Unlike you, Derek, I can keep hold of my stomach contents." She snipped back storming to the front door of her apartment and yanking it open. "Let's go before I re-think my decision to invite you."

.

They arrived at the hotel for the award ceremony about fifteen minutes later, perfectly on time. By now, Casey was used to the flash bulbs at major events. Occasionally during his early career, Derek had insisted she accompany _him_ to award dinners- an experience which was more than a little ego-deflating because as soon as Derek's car pulled up, he was yanked off to one side for chats with the press and photo ops. Casey had been hastily shepherded off through the back entrance and only allowed to rejoin him after the photographers had retired to a safe distance.

For a while now, Casey too had experienced her own fair share of attention at book signings. Her novel was popular enough that a fan base had developed and security was needed whenever she made a public appearance, but it was nothing like Derek's adoring populace which bordered on a stalker-like obsession.

Tonight, as Casey and Derek arrived, it felt strange to be the person propelled to the front to talk to the press, although Derek was hardly relegated to the back. The reporters had missed the fact that they arrived together and were in complete shock that such a high profile sports celeb was attending a high brow literary awards dinner. Derek had had to get permission from his agent to accompany Casey which was stupid as he told Tim. She was his step-sister. He could go to her dentist appointment if he wanted.

As he pulled at his collar again, he wondered if there wasn't more similarity in that thought than you might think.

"Derek!" the reporters called. "Over here. Channel 6 news! What's the country's most high profile sportsman doing at book festival?" cried a guy who looked like all his Christmases had come at once now that something newsworthy had happened at what had promised to be a very tame event.

"What? I'm not allowed to read a book now?" Derek joked.

"Have you read all of the entries, Derek?" Another reporter called.

Derek laughed and shook his head. "Not this time." He said.

"Do you have a particular favourite?" A slight woman with a mousy bob asked him. Derek smiled at her. "Of course."

"Are you going to tell us which one it is?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because she'd kill me. She'd say that I influenced the public and that she wanted her book to make it on its own merit despite the fact that it's the best thing I've ever read."

"Whom?"

"Now that would be telling…" Derek said with a smile. "I'm sorry guys. I have to go." And he turned with a wave and made his way into the building.

"What did you say?" Casey asked as soon as he appeared.

"I said I was only there for the eye candy." He lied.

Casey looked disgusted. He laughed and then as they passed an alcove he pulled her to one side.

"I'm only going to say this once, McDonald, so listen, because I'll probably deny it later. The book is fantastic – out of this world and I am more than a little proud to be your pain in the ass right now. You did it, Casey. You finally got me to admit I'm impressed with your keener status. So suck it up and enjoy this evening because you deserve it. And if at the end of the night you _aren't_ holding an award, I'll be demanding to know why…probably in front of a studio audience."

He finished, slightly out of breath because he hadn't trusted himself to pause mid-way through.

Casey stared at him for a moment, astounded that he could say something so…nice. Then she stretched up and pecked him soundly on the lips.

* * *

**AN: It's not much but at least I didn't make you wait 47 chapters for it this time.**


	16. The Tempest

"I still think you should move everything valuable into storage for the weekend!" Casey shouted above the noise of Derek's electric razor – his dual (wet and dry) shaving method one of the few areas where she was certain he was more OCD than her. Derek stuck his head round the bathroom door to look at her sitting on his bed, clipboard on lap.

"It'll be fine. I'm insured."

"But these are hockey players we are talking about and insurance won't replace sentimental items."

He chuckled, wiping his face. "Case. Do I look like the sentimental type to you?"  
She regarded him carefully. "Alright. Let me put it another way. What happens if one of them sets light to your limited edition porn collection."

"My what?" He frowned. "Oh you mean the Sports Illustrateds?"

"Swimsuit editions. Honestly, I've seen more clothing in Playboy."

Derek grinned. "Oh…read Playboy a lot do you?"

"Yes. On the occasions where you kept me waiting during your physio appointments. Doc had little in the way of decorating magazines in his waiting room."

"Look. If it makes you happy, move all my photos into my bedroom and lock the door, but otherwise, what will be will be. I wanted a party at my house. If I wanted a party at an empty warehouse, I'd have rented an empty warehouse."  
"Now. The guest list." Casey went on, ignoring his comment. "I need a list of everyone you've invited."

"Good luck with that, I have no idea." He said, tossing the wet towel towards the laundry basket in the corner of the bedroom.

"How am I supposed to sort out catering if I don't know who you've invited?"  
"Because you love a challenge."

"Roughly, D?" She said exasperated at his nonchalance.

"A couple of hundred or so."

"What?"

He laughed. "I'm kidding. I've invited about a hundred people. Tim has a list and they were all given proper invitations."  
"Wow! I didn't think you were organised enough." Her pen was making notes on the board as she spoke.

"Had to be. Simon threatened me with a judo lesson if I ever jeopardised the security again after that incident with the topless fan."

"Urgh! Don't remind me. I still haven't recovered from the shock of seeing her standing there in the pantry." Casey shivered. "Honestly, how she could call herself a fan and not know that you were away on tour!"

"That'll teach you to break into my home and take my kitchen hostage. She could have hurt you." He leant up against the door frame and the last part was softer than the first. "I have to say, I'm surprised you're relinquishing control of your territory to the catering firm."  
Casey looked concerned. "Don't be ridiculous Derek. It's your kitchen. It isn't my territory."

"Well you may not live here, but no one else typed up contents lists for each cupboard and stuck it on the inside of the door. Sometimes boiling an egg is like a high school cookery class all over again. I half expected you to paint silhouettes on the shelves so that I put everything back in the right place."

He saw a light go on in her eyes and hoped he hadn't just put ideas in her head. Then she frowned.

"What are you doing boiling eggs, Derek? The freezer is full of food." _That she had cooked and placed there._

"I fancy an egg…I'll eat an egg. Stop nagging. Now are you planning on leaving the room or do you want a show? I need to get dressed."

Casey stood up. "I'm leaving, I'm leaving." She said. "I'll be in the kitchen."  
"Fine. _I'll_ be in the Den."

His territory or hers? Casey decided she might win more of the war if she gave in on this battle.

Casey sighed. "Okay. I'll be in the Den." She corrected.

Derek smiled as he watched her leave the room. It might not be Casey's house, but she spent a lot of time there and the kitchen was most definitely _her_ place. Of course, the place she loved most in the house was the master bedroom and its view of the garden, but since she could hardly evict him from his own bedroom, she had instead taken over the hub of the house: the kitchen.

.

There had been a short period of time, measured in months, not years when Casey had occasionally woken up in the Master bedroom. A time not that long ago _(was it really just three weeks?)_ where staying overnight at Derek's house had meant spending the night in Derek's bed.

But since The Kiss three weeks ago, he hadn't asked her to stay, and she hadn't expressed a desire to.

The morning after he first moved into this house, when she woke up in his arms, his hands resting against her skin and his lips on her neck, she freaked out.

But when they had discussed what happened he made light of the event. Suddenly it was insignificant – and there seemed no reason why it shouldn't happen again. They were friends of sorts, and it was simply affection.

Over the subsequent months, Casey had got used to waking up like that. It wasn't intentional, it just sort of happened and whilst both of them were aware it was rather odd for two step-siblings to like to spoon, neither of them had called a halt to it.

Until The Kiss.

It wasn't much of a kiss. Derek could say that the kiss was Casey stepping over the line, but he was already leaning so far over that ethereal edge that the chasm between them was wafer thin, and its depths took them straight to hell.

Her literary dinner, his proud, supportive gesture, Casey's act of…affection…love?

There was no going back - she had kissed him on the mouth.

It was just a peck, but in the seconds after she pulled away he was breathless and speechless. Casey had opened her mouth automatically to say "thank you" for his earlier comment, but she too couldn't speak. He stared at her, she blushed a deep crimson – and whispered "Sorry, that didn't happen."

Except it did happen, and whilst they hadn't discussed it, not even now three weeks later, the unfamiliar sensation of their lips pressed together was never far from either of their minds.

After that, there were no more sleepovers, no accidental viewings of one or other's underwear (on their person or even in the laundry pile) and whilst Casey was still a frequent visitor to his home, Derek knew there was an increased distance between them. They had stepped back from the chasm.

Part of him was relieved because he really didn't need this shit on top of his already hectic life style and the press' constant demand for photos and news stories. But another part, and if he was being honest, a very large part, regretted the increased distance. Casey was his best friend despite what he said to the contrary and, yes, over the years he had acknowledged, to himself at least, the attraction he felt.

She was beautiful and they probably would have dated had circumstances been different. But they shared a family and how could that fail to force them down the denial route? By rights, he supposed they should have ignored each other, but for him, ignoring Casey McDonald had never been an option. And by the willingness of his partner in crime to join in the conflict, ignoring him had never been an option for Casey either. They might have grown up, but apparently, they had grown together, which was inconvenient.

Very inconvenient. Because since her kiss, he found himself wondering what it would be like to _date_ Casey. He tried picturing her across the table from him at expensive restaurants, sitting with her under the moonlight of a tropical beach, and waking up beside her, their limbs entangled. Shockingly, the images came easily to him, because the moments he would expect to share with a girlfriend, he had _already_ shared a million times over with Casey.

Which meant _what_ exactly?

* * *

Casey entered the Den with her clipboard and a degree of trepidation. She didn't have a problem with the room as such. In fact, she loved how warm it was, how relaxing and welcoming. She loved that it was full of the pictures of their family, including ones of Derek in un-posed portraits playing with Robbie and Marti, looking almost paternal. But it was a raw room, full of emotion, full of Derek…and right now she wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

She was sensitive to emotions. She always understood when someone liked her or hated her, although she might not know why. And this room buzzed with the essence that was Derek. It was very sensual, dark in colour and warm in furnishings, like burying yourself in Derek. For Casey, burying herself in Derek would be easy, like watching a rabbit staring into the headlights of a car – you know it's going to be messy but you can't turn away.

When Derek made it downstairs, Casey was sitting in her usual spot on the large twin-seated couch that the brochure she had purchased it from referred to as a "love seat". Since this was where both she and Derek normally sat of an evening whilst they watched TV, she definitely didn't use that exact term.

She immediately became business-like.

"So. Let's talk canapés." She announced.

"Let's not." He groaned.

"Derek, we need to finalise this with the caterer."  
"Casey. I wanted a fun party, not a lesson in over-planning by Casey McDonald."

Her face fell and he knew he had over-stepped the mark.

"I didn't mean that…well not exactly…I…"

"It's alright Derek. I get the message." She said quietly, unfolding her legs and scooping up her papers.

Derek caught her hand. "No. You don't." He said. "It's just that the only time I see you at the moment is with that stupid pink clipboard in your hands and a list of jobs for me to do. I thought the whole reason we were paying the caterers for the party was so that you didn't have so much work."

Casey said nothing.

"Princess. It's almost like you're talking this up so that we don't have to talk about other things. It's like you can't be in the same room as me unless you have all the conversation planned out. Jesus Casey! One lousy peck on the lips and we regress ten years!"

Casey frowned. "It wasn't lousy." She said quietly. Derek laughed. She raised fiery eyes to his and continued. "It wasn't lousy." She repeated, and he spotted the twinkle in her eye. "Lame but not lousy."

"Lame?" Derek was stunned. "Lame?" He huffed. "Nothing I do is lame."

Casey groaned. "Big head."

"Nah just honest."

"Der-ek!" She mock batted him with the clipboard and he laughed so much he fell off the seat beside her onto the floor, pulling her down with him. Casey giggled as she loomed over him.

"It was a peck on the lips, Casey. Not a full-blown assault on my tonsils." Derek linked his fingers with hers.

"I just forgot myself." She explained.

"You forgot it was me, or you forgot that you aren't supposed to find me attractive."

"I kissed you Derek. I didn't start worshipping at your temple."

He smirked. "Yeah. Why not?"

"Idiot."

"Can we shelve the vol-au-vents?" he asked looking up at her.

"How about I ask the caterer to bring over some free samples tomorrow for a taste-testing?"

"Ooo. Subversion. That's underhand. Very Venturi. I like it. Just tell them to bring three of everything."

"See…not all my ideas are bad." Casey said, looking down at him.

* * *

"Oooh! D, you should taste these mini-pizzas, they are unbelievable!" One of Derek's team mates enthused but Derek declined. The truth was, he had eaten so many of the damn things during Casey's "tasting" session that he couldn't stomach even looking at them now that the real party was in full swing. He nodded, swigged his beer directly from the bottle and went in search of the DJ who was supposed to be providing music for tonight. So far he had heard five Abba-derivative tracks, and a Barbie Girl. It was time for some thing…_pleasantly_ audible.

He reached the mixing desk that Casey had set up in the back garden under a marquee and glanced at the throng of people on the dance floor. He was looking for the squirt he was paying a fortune to for the privilege of telling his grandchildren he once spun discs at Derek Venturi's home.

When he reached the guy though, he found Casey giving him a piece of her mind.

"Look buster, I like Meryl Streep as much as the next woman, but frankly, most of the people on the premises have parents who were only just in high school when Abba went their separate ways, so let's drop the seventies bent and start concentrating on eighties, nineties and noughties, shall we?"  
The DJ nodded and left and Casey made her way over. Derek smirked at her.

"Some days watching you is like watching myself in the mirror." He said.

"I can't decide if that was an insult or a compliment." She grinned. "Aren't you eating?"  
He shook his head. "If I never see another mini pizza again, I'll be happy."

"You did eat rather a lot." Casey confirmed dodging to one side as three drunken hockey players cannoned towards them. Derek took her arm.

"Come on. Let's get out of the way of these animals."

For the sake of the flowers, they had locked the walled garden and restricted the party-goers to the rest of the landscaped surrounds. But Casey had kept hold of the key and they made their way to the little oasis, grabbing two beers and a bowl of chips on the way. She let them into the scented enclosure and then locked the door behind them.

"Alone at last!" Derek announced, the noise of the party suddenly diminished in the walled space. Casey gave him a funny look and he realised how the phrase had sounded and frankly, right now he realised he didn't care.

"Come on, Case. Admit it, they're a bunch of animals and you'd rather be in here alone with me than out there looking for another heartbreak."  
"You have a very low opinion of my romantic life."  
He chuckled and moved across to the grassy area they usually sat on. "No. I have a low opinion of the morons you date. And as much as I hate to admit it, there are a few on my team who would definitely tick most of your boxes."

Casey sat down beside him. "Actually, I'm not looking for a date right now."  
"Yeah right…you're always looking for Mr Right."

"No seriously. I'm happy as I am." Casey took the proffered beer from him and took a sip.

"Trailing round after me?" Derek leaned back on his elbows and regarded her.

"You trail around after me too." Casey used her beer bottle to point at him.

"Only in the off-season." He grinned, drinking from his own drink.

"What am I, Derek?" Casey started to peel the label from her bottle.

He chuckled. "Don't make me answer that."

Casey glanced up. "I meant what am I to you?" she pushed, nervously. She wondered if she was doing the right thing.

"You're Casey." He answered simply, but he didn't meet her eyes.

"Meaning?"  
"Meaning I don't have a definition for you, you are just you. Casey. Pure and simple." He smiled at the final phrase.

"Is that good or bad?" She asked, pulling herself onto her knees and therefore closer to him.

"Well look at it this way. There maybe girlfriends and wives galore, but there will only ever be one Casey." Derek unwittingly sat up.

Casey was quiet. "Is that a promise?" She asked softly.

"Honestly, Case. You're unique."

She looked annoyed but he put a hand on her arm. "That was a compliment, honey." And his hand slipped down her wrist to her own, the fingers curling round to lace themselves with Casey's fingers. His eyes, warm and dark never left hers.

There was no warning, no sigh or breath of air, no whispered comment, and neither of them made the first move. They were just apart one minute and deliciously entangled the next. Derek's lips met Casey's but neither of them could tell you who made the first move, or why – if it wasn't them – why they had responded.

This wasn't a peck. This was a full-bloodied assault on each other, a rush of emotion and lust which hit as soon as the floodgates opened.

They moved their lips together for a long while, exploring and devouring each other: Sometimes soft and gentle, sometimes raw and needy. Heated like two teenagers, warm and tender like too aged lovers.

Lips against lips, body against body and hands in each other's hair, eventually they fell gently to the ground and Derek rolled lightly on top of her.

Casey groaned into his mouth and the sensations his body caused against hers intensified. They were still fully clothed but there was no doubt where this was going.

"I need you." He murmured against her neck.

"I want you." She confirmed against his shoulder.


	17. Shattered

_Lips against lips, body against body and hands in each other's hair, eventually they fell gently to the ground and Derek rolled lightly on top of her. _

_Casey groaned into his mouth and the sensations his body caused against hers intensified. They were still fully clothed but there was no doubt where this was going._

_"I need you." He murmured against her neck._

_"I want you." She confirmed against his shoulder._

CRASH!

SMASH!

_Tinkle, tinkle…_And then an eerie silence.

Derek lifted his face from Casey's and his body followed quickly after him. Casey too sat up.

"What the fuck was that?" Derek exclaimed. The music from the party had stopped and the background hum of people talking was gone; in their place, the screaming started.

Derek stood and held out a hand to Casey to help her up. She took it and they ran for the gate, Casey fumbling in the pocket of her pants for the key.

As they emerged from the garden, there was no need to ask which way to go. Every person in the place was standing still as a statue orientated towards the Pool House, a single storey building, attached to the main house complex by a covered corridor. The walls of the Pool House were glass panels for the most part – or at least they had been. As Derek and Casey ran towards the structure, they could both see one large section was now crazed and crumbling, and guests were crowding around looking at something inside. Derek squeezed then dropped Casey's hand and stepped closer.

"Derek! Oh thank god. I sent someone to look for you or your sister." It was the girlfriend of one of the other players. "You'd better go inside and take a look. Neil and Robert were rough-housing and they've gone through the glass and into the pool. Doc's with them and I think they are okay but there's a lot of damage."

Derek pushed through the guests until he reached the scene inside.

He didn't notice Casey's face as the girl had spoken. He didn't notice her step back-wards. And as he began to take charge and handle the mess, he didn't notice her turn and run.

* * *

The ambulance doors closed and the vehicle pulled away. Left on the step, Derek turned to Tim, his agent standing beside him.

"Most of the guests have gone. The rest are just waiting on cabs." Tim said. "I've called your insurance company and they are sending out an emergency glazier."  
"Thanks Tim. I appreciate the help." Derek frowned as he wondered why it was Tim sorting this out and not Casey. "Where's Casey?"

Tim shrugged. "I haven't seen her for a while. Why?"  
"Nothing."

But it wasn't nothing. By the time the last guest left, Derek had searched the entire house and she wasn't there. He pulled his cell from his pocket and dialled her number. The phone rang unanswered for a while and then just as he was about to give up, she answered.

"Where are you?" he asked. "At home?"  
"Yes." Her voice sounded subdued…wrong.

"Why?"  
"Because there was a lot going on, and I'd be in the way."  
"Don't be silly princess. Everyone's gone. Come over."

"No."

"Why not? Do you want me to come over to you?"  
"No. Don't, Derek." She sounded panicked.

"Don't what?" He asked, suddenly suspicious.

Casey sighed. "Don't behave as though everything is normal. It isn't. I think we need some space and…"

"What? Casey…"

"Derek…just leave it, okay?"

"No it isn't okay. We need to talk."  
This time her voice was extra quiet. "There is nothing to talk about."

"Yes, there is."

"No there isn't."

"If you won't talk to me now, will you talk to me tomorrow? Come over."

"No." Casey closed her eyes and leant her head back against the headboard where she was lying. "Not your house. Somewhere public."

"Why? You think I'm going to attack you?"

"Not exactly."

* * *

"We can't do this." Casey stated bleakly.

Derek glared at her. He hadn't even sat down at the little table in the coffee house yet and she wasn't looking at him, instead looking at the cooling cup of tea in front of her.

"What happened to 'Hi Derek! Sorry I ran out on you last night'?" he said sitting opposite her.

"I am sorry." She said, finally looking up, but still not quite meeting his gaze. "But we can't do this. You're supposed to be my brother."  
"No I'm not. I'm just someone whose father married your mother. Our relationship isn't even illegal, Casey."

"We don't _have_ a relationship Derek." Her voice was calm and detached as though she was distancing herself from the words.

His eyes widened and he stood up. "I used to think you were too emotional. Now I see I got it wrong. You're not emotional enough. What happened to the last ten years, Casey? What happened to the best friend I thought I had? I'm not saying we could make it work between us as a couple, but to deny that there is anything there at all…"

She blinked and then reached out and caught his arm. "I didn't mean it like that. Please…sit down." He regarded her coldly for a while and finally resumed his seat.

"You _are_ my best friend, which is what makes this so impossible. We'll screw _everything_ up…everything we hold important. Yes, we would satisfy our own desires but we would change the dynamic of our family, making it difficult for Mom and George, never mind how the kids would see us. Our friends have only ever seen us as siblings, they'd be disgusted. And when it all fell apart we wouldn't even have our friendship left. I don't think I'm ready to deal with that."  
"You underestimate people." Derek said quietly.

"What people? Your team mate's girlfriend who called me your sister last night?" Derek closed his eyes as suddenly her reasons for disappearing made sense. "Emily, who once took great delight in showing me an article in a supermarket magazine about a guy who got his step-sister pregnant?" Derek groaned and cursed his ex-girlfriend. "The Press?"

Derek took a deep breath. He supposed he should be fighting her on this, but he knew she had a point. In isolation, a relationship between them made perfect sense and if it was just about the two of them there would be no reservations. But she was right – sort of, particularly about the press. They would spin it as some thing weird and unusual – and even he had to admit getting hot and heavy with your step-sibling sounded a bit freakish in a way.

"You're wrong about _us_." He said eventually. "That anything would stop us being friends."

Her face softened. "How could we be friends when we split up?" She asked her hands waving in frustration.

"We've invested too much time in this friendship to let anything get in its way – even a failed relationship." He insisted.

"I thought I was supposed to be the optimist."

Derek smiled sadly his arguments were thin and he knew it. Casey looked carefully at him.

"You see my point, don't you?" she asked.

"Yeah." He looked away but his fingers found hers across the table. "I'm sorry. I should never have let last night happen."

"There were two of us, Derek. And it's been building up for a while." Casey's voice took on a new softer note, and her fingers brushed his gently.

He snorted. "Casey, it's been building up since the day I met you. Nothing is guaranteed to spark a flame for me than someone saying "You can't do that"."  
"Forbidden fruit." Casey agreed. Derek chuckled.

"Does that make you Eve?"

"Please don't start running around in a fig leaf."

"Why? Temptation too much?" She rolled her eyes and he laced their fingers together. "Actually I'm not sure fig leaves come in big enough sizes."

"Oh god. Your ego's got control of your mouth again."

The laughter died away after a few minutes and Casey squeezed his hand and then released it.

"So we aren't going to continue this?" she asked motioning between them with her released hand.

"You said not." Derek replied and then looking at her slightly hurt expression. "No. We aren't. But I don't want to lose our friendship. We need to stay friends." He turned square to the table and rested his elbow on the surface, leaning his chin on his hands and watching her.

"Don't you think things are going to be a little _tense_ between us?" Casey asked. "…now that we know what it's like to…_kiss_ each other."

"You sound like a twelve year old, Honey." He grinned. "You mean, are we going to be able to walk around each other without wanting to go at it like a pair of rabbits? Probably not." Their eye met.

"What do we do? Have some time apart? Avoid each other?"  
"I was thinking one night of no-holds-barred sex – get it out of our system so that we can just move on as ex-lovers and laugh about it in our old age." He joked.

"Be serious you idiot!"

He laughed but then his face turned serious and he took her hand. "I don't know how it's going to work, Casey. But the _only_ option we have is time and distance."

His thumb rubbed across her palm. "I'm sorry."

"Me too."

* * *

It was hard staying away from each other. The times before hadn't been so difficult because they had known that they would see each other again soon. Both of them poured their frustration into their work and a secret hope that maybe they would see each other at Christmas, at home. Consequently, their careers blossomed and they became busy, giving the impression to the outside world that everything was sunshine and laughter.

Thanksgiving came and went, and two months later Christmas approached. Casey found her work ensured she was expected to be in Europe at Christmas. Much as she longed to be back in London, Ontario, in her heart she knew that London, England was the right place to be. She lied to her mom, telling her she was contractually obliged to stay away, but she knew Derek would know the truth – and she was fairly sure he would approve of her decision. And sure enough, on Christmas Day she received a text.

**You were missed, but thank you. Merry Xmas D x**

**.**

New Year came, and Casey returned home and saw her family – but Derek was "on the road" for fixtures. This time it was her turn to send a wry text and she had smiled at his reply.

**The weather's too cold for fig leaves. MY x**

Before long it was four months since they had seen each other.

* * *

"…and you have the charity dinner on the 19th and the award ceremony the following weekend…and if you continue to ignore me I'm going to dress up as Tarzan and swing through the trees in a loincloth."

Casey nodded absent-mindedly. "That sounds fine." She said to Angela, causing her agent and friend to sigh audibly and bang her head against her desk.

"Casey for the love of Michael, would you just phone him?"  
Casey frowned. "Phone who? Who's Michael?"  
Angela leaned her head back in her office chair and regarded her friend in exasperation.

"Whoever has you so distracted! I've just spoken about gibberish for the past ten minutes and you haven't batted an eyelid. It won't fly, hun. You need to get whatever funk it is out of your system."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't get you to the right meeting on the right day. You need to get your head in gear." Casey's friend sighed. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Casey shook her head. "No. You don't want to know."  
"Is this something that is going to bite us later on?" Angela set her pen on the desk in front of her and leaned back in her chair.

"Not if I keep this up." Casey insisted.

Her friend shook her head. "You're making absolutely no sense, you know that, don't you?"

"I'm sorry hun. I'm just battling a few demons right now." Casey found herself rubbing absent-mindedly at the watch on her wrist and her heart reminded her that it had been a present from Derek.

"And working really hard. Look. Take a week out. Go deal with your demons and then come back refreshed."

Casey shook her head. "I need the work to keep me focussed."  
"On what? It sure as hell isn't your work." Angela sat forward.

"I'm making things difficult for you." Casey's voice was apologetic.

"No. You're making me worried for you. Have you spoken to Nora?" Casey's friend standing up and coming around the desk. Once there she perched against it, and regarded her charge.  
Casey glanced up in a panic. "Hell no!"

"Oh great! Something you can't tell Nora about. I think it's time I battened down the hatches." Angela rubbed at the space between her eyes as if she had a headache coming.

"Don't exaggerate."

"I'm not…I just…Case. You can talk to me about anything, you know that?"  
"I know. I appreciate it. I'm just in denial at the moment."

"My dad always used to say that pussy-footing around a problem was a hiding to nowhere and that you should grab the bull by both horns and just go with the flow." Angela coughed at the memory of her beloved parent. "Of course, Dad was always one for mixed metaphors. He kept a journal all his life and when I became a literary agent he wanted me to publish the journals, but the thought of all those mixed metaphors just had me running for the hills like a wailing banshee – and Jesus! It's hereditary!"

They both laughed, and Casey appreciated her friend even more than ever.

"Casey. I mean it about talking to me. And I also mean it about taking time out. You need to think – and maybe you need to act."

* * *

**AN: Don't forget my Facebook page. It's seriously worth going there, because I use it to plant clues and teasers, and sometimes give reasons for why there hasn't been an update. In case you hadn't worked it out, Chapter 16 was not IT. The big IT is still to come and then we are on to part two of the story.**


	18. U2

Casey liked her apartment. It was classic. It was old in all the best ways with some period features, yet modern and clean – and importantly for someone whose personal habits tended on the OCD, it was easy to clean. The floors were original oak and smooth, the walls flat and painted, and the woodwork white and glossy. The kitchen was a bright marvel of solid wood and marble units with stainless steel fittings, and the two bathrooms were tiled in white ceramic with large windows. It was perfect.

Since she had left Angela's office four days ago, it had been cleaned to the point where she was sure there was a large sign on the door saying "stay away dust" because even at night when the air inside stilled, it left no dust on the surfaces for the following day. She knew because she had looked.

So on day four, she had resorted to going downstairs to the apartment of her elderly neighbour Mrs Cousins and volunteering to do her housework too – which only served to reinforce Mrs Cousins' personal belief that her young attractive neighbour was clinically insane…but hey! Who was she to turn down a free maid service?

Day four closed with nothing resolved in Casey's mind and she went to bed yet again unsatisfied with Angela's plan of Casey confronting her demons.

"Confronting demons". _What exactly did that mean?_ Casey asked herself lying in bed staring at the ceiling. She had tried watching TV, but the only thing decent non-sport thing on was a series which she had been watching with Derek and she had taken to recording it so that maybe some day they could finish watching it together. She was annoyed at herself for doing that but she couldn't stop. A quick flick around confirmed her fear that she really was paying for a television service she didn't use and she eventually gave up and switched off, pulling out her ipod.

It gave her no satisfaction either, as it had last been updated by Derek, four months ago, and most of the frequently played songs on there were ones they had both liked. She tried to listen for a couple of songs but ditched the ear pieces and snapped its case shut.

Sighing at her lack of willpower, she switched the television onto the hockey match for a bit of what she had begun to term "illicit Derek action". That meant that Casey watched all of his games, just so that she could see him – or at least as much as was visible wrapped up as he was in his protective clothing.

He played well tonight. His form had improved over the past four months and Casey smiled wryly at the notion that ceasing contact with her improved his game. She came to the conclusion that he was getting over her and that he was moving on. It never occurred to her that, like Casey, he was burying himself in anything and everything that could take his mind away from her.

She watched her best friend steal the limelight from every other player on the ice with a smile, and silently berated herself for being so weak as to allow her guilty pleasure. She reached across for her cell and indulged herself one step further.

.

When bedtime came, Casey's mind was still a whirl of thoughts and all of them Derek-centric. Even the song in her mind as she drifted off into an uneasy sleep was a U2 song that they had both liked.

* * *

Derek came off the ice to cheering and shouting. He smirked at the back slapping and celebratory salutations and followed his team mates down to the locker room and the waiting press. He had played well tonight, probably the best he had ever played. He wanted to discuss his performance with the people that counted: his dad…and Casey. He would phone his dad later and relive the game slice by slice; Casey was another matter however.

Derek reached the corridor where the public were forbidden, and the press and any celebrities who had watched would wait. He passed a few people he sort of recognised: a politician, a minor talent show winner and so on. Each of them was sporting a piece of arm candy. As he passed one girl, she smiled seductively at him and threw out her hand for him to shake. Derek, still distracted, looked at it as though he was unsure what to do with it. The girl waved it again, and the mist cleared slightly as he realised he recognised her from the cover of some girl magazine of Casey's back when they were still spending time together. Derek smiled unwittingly at the errant thought of Casey which slipped through – again.

The girl misinterpreted the smile.

"Hi!" She said. "I'm Chloe."

Derek nodded but didn't shake her hand. His mind had moved on to the possibility that his performance tonight had been stellar enough that Casey would feel compelled to send him a congratulatory text. He smiled briefly in dismissal to "Chloe" and pushed his way into the locker room, heading straight for his cell phone.

Outside in the corridor, Chloe reeled from the brush off, glanced around to see if anyone had noticed, and then with a determined look on her face, she walked away.

* * *

There was no text from Casey, but several from the rest of the family. Derek pushed the disappointment to one side and set about getting changed. Some of the guys were going out afterwards, but Derek declined as usual. Going out with his team mates was something he always did with Casey and he still hadn't moved on from that. Instead, he went home.

He was chilling with a beer, having just spent half an hour on the phone to his father who apparently knew a lot more about ice hockey than Derek – in George's opinion. Marti had been home and was chirping in the background and Derek was in a good mood. He loved his family, and he loved how supportive they were.

If he had loved them any less he would not be alone right now.

Just as he was contemplating that fact, his cell phone buzzed.

**You did good, Venturi.**

Derek smiled and closed his eyes. Texts from Casey were brief and rare but they never failed to touch him; particularly when they were phrased in a way that reminded him of how much he had influenced her over the past ten years – and vice versa. He replied quickly, but in long hand, knowing how much she hated abbreviated English.

**You should have been there. I still miss you. X**

* * *

Casey woke the following morning with a tune already in her brain. She couldn't remember the words, but the melody nagged at her to the point where she got up and put the kitchen radio on to mask it. The action worked temporarily and she sat at her breakfast bar and switched on her phone, hopeful for a reply from Derek.

Moments, and one beep, later, she was still staring at the device. She wasn't sure what she expected him to say, maybe something neutral like "Thanks X". But his actual reply didn't sound like someone who had moved on and that was disturbing, because it gave her hope when she shouldn't have hope; hope that she wasn't the only infatuated one in their bizarre "relationship".

But it also made her despair because how was she supposed to move on and get over a single ill-advised "teenage" make out session when he admitted to still missing her? Of course, he could mean that he missed her as a friend, but she didn't think so.

Casey put her head in her hands and wrung her long hair in her fingers. She needed to get him out of her system and soon because this was Derek they were talking about and it wasn't good for her to be obsessing over _him_.

She lifted her head and smiled weakly at the momentary lapse into fifteen year old Casey. Being able to hate Derek the way she used to would help, but she didn't think that was possible anymore.

In fact, that was exactly what she needed – something that made him less of an ideal. She needed to find something about him that irritated her. The trouble was she already _knew_ so much about him: all his plus points and the negative ones. She had seen him in every setting, in every condition in life…except the obvious. Casey tried not to think about the obvious…sex.

Sex was a bit of a sore subject for Casey, although as she had never had sex, she didn't mean that literally. There had been a time when she wondered why she was still a virgin at her age, but since she had begun to understand the place Derek had in her life, the reason for her abstinence became abundantly clear. He was always there distracting her, even when he was the other side of Canada. She had never relaxed around anyone enough to consider letting go – except Derek. The closest she had ever come to having sex was with him in his garden that night. If he had asked, she would have given – although she swore she would do everything in her power to keep the fact he was her first from him.

And there she was…her mind back in the garden and back in the Casey-Derek sexual relations rut. She cursed herself.

Maybe she was frustrated. Maybe she just needed to have sex. Maybe she should go out pick up some random guy in the street and jump him. She even stood up and walked to the window to look out. But, then her memories of Derek in the garden resurfaced and she knew that for now at least, giving it up for anyone other than Derek was impossible, because she needed to trust her partner, and when it came to the important things in life, the only person she trusted with something like this was Derek.

She wondered if he thought about her and sex the way she did – and smiled as she realised Derek had probably always thought about her and sex. He was Derek. He thought about everyone and sex – and she began to realise why her presence in his life had been such a trial to him. From _that_ realisation came a flood of affection, love even, because despite the attraction which he could not act on, he had kept her within arms' reach for ten years.

He had told her he needed her. She had told him she wanted him. But she needed him too. From his text she thought maybe he still felt the same, and she knew that for her own part, she certainly did.

As evening approached, the volume of the annoying tune in her head grew louder and she started to realise why she couldn't place it. The song had two forms, and she was humming the cover. Pouring herself an uncharacteristically large glass of wine, Casey crossed her living room to her iPod dock, slid the device back where it belonged, and selected a track. In seconds, the unmistakable sounds of U2 filled her living room. Not a romantic track at all, which made her chuckle, but the sentiment was still there. As she listened to the words she was transported back to the scented garden of her memories and then forward to the coffee house with Derek.

Two options he had given; and they had picked the second. The music playing now suggested the first.

Casey emptied her glass and reached for the wine bottle.

* * *

Derek wasn't sure if the times that he wasn't touring were a good thing or not. At least at home he wasn't accosted on a daily basis by groupies in hotel corridors. Of course the general public were kept out of the players' areas, but groupies coming in forms other than the general public. One groupie in particular was becoming particularly persistent – and irritating.

The problem with being home was that it was full of reminders. The garden may well be under several feet of snow, but he had to eat, and the kitchen was still Casey-territory with its organisation, and its deep freeze full of Casey food. Four months down the line, she might not cook in the room anymore, but once a month a delivery of plastic tubs arrived by courier. His new housekeeper had frowned and asked what to do with them, and Derek had looked at her in disbelief.

"What do you normally do with a month's worth of cooked food in freezer tubs?" He had asked. "Stick them in the freezer. Oh, and change the on-line grocery order. I won't need as much stuff anymore if this delivery is going to be regular."

It was.

Casey had found a way to interfere in his daily life as he knew (and hoped) she would.

The day after the best performance of his career – and Casey's congratulatory text – Derek was home. It was night time and late, although with the winter had come the long nights so it had been dark for a while. Derek as a twenty-something adult was more contemplative than his fifteen year old counterpart, and he guessed that was due in no small part to Casey. Like a married man, he had for some time appreciated the concept of a night in; although, these days they were less healthy.

Tonight he finished up in his private gym and headed upstairs for a shower and a change of clothes. On the way, he grabbed a glass and a bottle of Jack Daniels – though he knew he shouldn't after exercising, and took both with him. Ten minutes later, showered and dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, he stood at the bedroom window, glass in hand, looking down on the blanket of snow covering Casey's garden. Casey would no doubt grab a pen and start eulogising on the contrast between the warmth of the summer evening they spent there and the cold dampness of the evening now they were apart. Derek called himself a sap and downed the rest of the glass.

He made himself a sandwich because Casey was already on his mind too much for him to be able to stomach warming up one of her meals tonight, and withdrew to his den, taking the sandwich and the bottle with him. Casey would say this was unhealthy, but he'd been in the gym most of the afternoon without a break, and he thought that wasn't particularly good for him either. Besides, she wasn't here so what she didn't know and all that. Derek settled in to watch some lame slot-filler of a bail-jumper documentary.

The bottle's contents had decreased significantly before long. He hadn't planned on having a heavy night, but he guessed that his perception of what was right or wrong had changed when he decided to drink JD on just a sandwich. He guessed it was a good thing he was at home and out of trouble.

A Steven Segal docu-farce came on with the lead character looking like TJ Hooker – corset and all, but Derek was too lethargic to care. He felt himself slipping into an almost Homer-like existence – and not the Homer that would impress Casey.

About two hours into his Duff-like wallowing, the doorbell rang. Derek groaned and picked up the cordless entry phone.

"What?" he barked into it. And then repeated the question when he realised he hadn't pressed the required button.

"It's me." A voice said quietly. Derek's eyes widened and he was off the sofa and through the door faster than you could say "Bad foreboding, foreshadowing and recipe for disaster."

He ripped open the front door so fast the door knocker rattled, his JD-addled vision just registering the tail lights of the cab as it made its way down his drive. His visitor was leaning up against the side of the house, a small suitcase in her hand. She didn't have a coat on, and there was something wrong with the way her eyes were focussing.

"Jesus Casey! It's freezing! You'll catch your death!"

She giggled and hiccupped. "Hi Mom!" She said and stumbled her way into his hall-way. Derek closed the door and turned to face her.

"What's going on Casey?" He asked, trying to focus his drunken mind enough to comprehend what she was doing here.

"I needed to see you." She stated, and he was aware enough to know there was something wrong with the way she was speaking.

"Are you drunk?" his tone was one of disbelief. Casey grinned broadly.

"I bloody hope so. I can't do this sober."

"Do what?" He prompted. He had a bad feeling about this.

She giggled again, and dropping her suitcase, stepped towards him. Her arms slid around his waist and her body pressed against his.

"Sleep with you, Derek." She said, her voice suddenly morphing into something she hoped sounded seductive. "I want a one night stand."

* * *

**AN: U2 song = Pride (In the Name of love). The cover I am talking about is the Elephant Love Medley from Moulin Rouge. Appropriate to have a love song with a large elephant in the room…**

**So, what will Derek's reaction be?**


	19. One Night

Derek had had weird dreams while drunk before, but only ever on things like tequila or those cheap mock-liquors that resemble moonshine rather than something you should buy in a bar. He had never had a dream this bizarre, or real – and never on something like Jack Daniels. Besides, although drunk, he honestly didn't think he'd had enough to make this up.

Casey had wound her body into his, and was rubbing up against him and the vision before him whilst it looked and smiled like Casey was behaving like one of those star-eyed groupies. He was fairly sure this was really happening, but something was obviously wrong with the situation because much as he wanted Casey to be up close and personal with him, he would like it to be more realistic.

Casey McDonald did not "do" for one night stands.

"Casey?" He asked as if trying to prove to himself this wasn't a hallucination.

She smiled up at him and ran a hand up the front of his t-shirt. "You're horny and I'm available, and I seem to remember you saying something about you finding me attractive. Have sex with me."

He stared at her, his drink-addled mind struggling to comprehend what she was suggesting.

Fortunately, common sense prevailed.

"No."

Casey frowned and he started to see her innocence again although it was more of a pout than a lip wobble. "It's okay, Derek. It's…it's what I want."

The moment of clarity persisted and he pushed her away. "No Casey."

"Y-You don't want me?" She stammered, her expression hurt and dejected – and something else...Disappointment?

Before he could respond, her look changed to one of panic and her colour to one of green and she bolted for the bathroom located just off the foyer. In seconds, he could hear her being noisily sick.

Derek followed her to the room and leaned up against the door post as she hung over the toilet bowl.

"Are you okay?"  
"Do I look okay?" She gasped and wiping her mouth, flushed the toilet.  
"No."

"Then I'm not okay. Call me a cab. I think I've embarrassed myself enough tonight." She turned away continuing to mutter something about Mata Hari and vomit.

"Stay here tonight." Derek insisted. "You have stuff in your suitcase to tide you over and it's been months since we spoke."

"I'll probably vomit in the guest room."  
"I have a solution for that." He said, feeling suddenly sober. "You can sleep in my room."

"What?"

"I'll sleep in the guest room. You love the master bedroom and you know where the bathroom is. You don't like the guest room. You said it was too pretentious."

"Derek. I could sleep in a prison cell and I'd think it was heaven right now."

"But I want you to sleep in the master."

"And I want you to sleep with me."  
"No."

"Der-ek!"

"Case-y."  
She vomited again and then groaned.

"Bad day?" Derek asked, sliding down the door frame to sit beside her.

Casey shook her head. "No more than any of the past four months. You know me. I think too much."  
He smiled and then moved closer to her and pulled her into his arms. She resisted.

"Derek. I stink of sick."

"I've done worse to you. Stay."  
"If you'll sleep in the same bed with me."  
"Will you jump me in the middle of the night?"  
She snorted. "You wish."

And he knew she was sobering up.

* * *

Casey awoke the next morning in the familiar bed, a massive hangover hammering her head flat and Derek hanging off the bed as far away from her as he could. She groaned, though even she wasn't sure if it was because of how she felt or his ridiculous positioning. She winced.

"You've only got yourself to blame." He said from his point of safety across the mattress.

"What happened to _your_ hangover?" Casey asked with a touch of jealousy in her tone.

"I woke in the night and downed painkillers. Consequently, I opened my eyes a few minutes ago with nothing more than a warm fluffy feeling of love for my fellow man." There was the normal Derek smirk.

"But not lust for your step-sister." Casey stated and he realised she was still harbouring some bitterness there. "It's hard Derek." She said quietly. "Hard trying to move on."  
"We have to. But I know what you mean."

"I know we _have_ to, but last night I decided your first idea was right. Maybe we should just get it out of our system. One night in the name of…lust." She mis-quoted. Derek didn't miss that bit, even in his hungover state.

"When did I suggest a one night stand?" he looked shocked and slightly nauseated, and Casey tried not to read too much into that.

"In the coffee house. When we agreed to…separate."

Derek rolled already rolling eyes. "That was a joke, princess. I didn't mean it."

She pouted. "You don't want to have sex with me."

He laughed. "Casey, stop pouting. You aren't a sex kitten, so stop trying to act like one. Wanting to have sex with you is not the issue. I'm not going to sleep with you because last night we were both drunk and this morning we're both pissed. If I even kissed you in that state, the following morning you'd take a cleaver to my man bits and I'd be talking like a Bee Gee for the rest of my life."

She looked rejected. He shuffled across the bed and took both of her hands in his.

"I don't do one night stands with strangers, so what the hell makes you think I'd do that with someone I…care about? No. Casey. I won't do that to you."

"You _care_ about me?" Casey was astounded that he was ready to admit that. He nodded.

"It's just that I missed you." She said her eyes fixed his as she moved closer. "Hold me, please."

His mind was screaming for his body to pull away, but his heart had other ideas.

It had been a long four months.

"I missed you too." He said squeezing her tightly to him and burying his face in her hair.

For several minutes they lay there, wrapped in each other, eyes closed and breathing softly.

"I'm sorry about last night." Casey murmured.

"S'ok. What were you drinking anyway?"  
"An Alta Rioja. Your mum sent it to me after her last trip to Spain." She groaned. "I think I had a whole bottle. I can't believe I was so irresponsible."

"I know. If it's the stuff I'm thinking of, it's worth a fortune. That's criminal."

Casey rolled her eyes at him and Derek grinned. "Good quality hangovers are the best." He kissed the top of her hair. "Have you got plans for today?"  
"You mean apart from wallowing in rejection and self-pity?"

"This isn't rejection Casey. This is me trying to be grown up and sensible. My heart is fighting my mind tooth and nail right now."

"It still feels like rejection." She didn't comment on his use of the word "heart" rather than "groin" or some euphemism. Casey knew that the attraction between them was a mixture of lust and familiarity. She didn't want to remind herself though.

"I know. I'm sorry." He brushed the hair from her face. "Stay with me today. We'll get caught up on our TV series-viewing, catch up with each other's lives…"

"…say goodbye?" Her voice was timid. Derek closed his eyes and leaned his forehead into hers.

"It's not goodbye…just learning how to distance ourselves without an argument."

* * *

Casey made a simple breakfast (her stomach not up for anything else) and they ate it in silence in the kitchen. Derek glanced frequently at her but her eyes remained firmly down as if she was intently studying the toast on her plate.

"Are you not talking to me now?" Derek asked.

Casey smiled weakly. "I guess the embarrassment has kicked in." She explained.

"Sweetheart, you've been embarrassing yourself in front of me for so long now I would have thought you were immune." He ran a finger along her arm. "I've seen you make some really embarrassing mistakes – throwing yourself at me isn't one of them."

She grinned. "I never thought I'd ever hear you say that."

"Me either. Come on. Let's go veg in the den. We have four months worth of shows to watch."

Casey followed Derek into his den but hung back as he fussed around switching on the television and closing curtains etc. When he had finished, he flopped onto the couch and held a hand out to her. She took it wordlessly and felt him pull her down next to him, his arm around her. The only comfortable position for Casey now was to cuddle into him and rest her head on his shoulder and she cursed him for his affectionate gestures. It was like rubbing salt into open wounds, but not something that she could pull away from.

They watched a couple of episodes of their favourite shows in the quiet companionship they had developed over more than a decade. Derek's arm around her left his fingers able to hold her right hand with his own, and he left the remote on the seat beside them so that his left hand could play with the fingers on her left hand. When they did speak it was talk of Casey's writing and touring, Derek's games and touring, and the prospect of him being signed for a more major team shortly. He would be in Toronto more, and that pulled at Casey's heart because he would be nearer and yet so much further away.

"I curse my dad sometimes and praise him at the same time. I wouldn't know you if he hadn't met Nora, but why did he have to marry her?"

Casey sniggered. "I doubt he was thinking about his son's sex life when he made _that_ decision."

"You're doing it again, Casey and it's bugging the hell out of me. You're one of my best friends. This is not just about how hot you look in skinny jeans and lycra."

She laughed and he saw the sparkle in her eyes that he'd missed so much.

"I look hot in lycra?" She asked.

"I know! You must be the only person in the world that it works for."

"Idiot!" She chuckled. He grinned at her.

"Stop it with the sex talk okay? I'm used to my Casey all innocent and virginal. I got enough of Casey the vamp last night."

"Or not…" She added with a smile.

Derek said nothing, just raised a thumb to trace the line of her lips gently. They locked eyes and their smiles froze. All Casey was aware of was Derek's hand close to her face and the sound of her own heart.

"You're beautiful and smart, and I miss you so much." He whispered.

Casey traced his lips with her own fingers and felt the slight rush of air as the gesture made him gasp. He took his hand from her face and used it to pull her fingers gently away, but only to replace them with his own mouth. And it was Casey's turn to gasp, against his lips. He kissed her softly a couple of times.

"We shouldn't…" They both said at the same time and Casey giggled. Derek pulled her onto his lap.

"Fuck it! We're going to!" He said. Casey's eyes widened.

"Kiss…I meant." Derek backtracked. Despite her plan of yesterday, he noted she looked relieved.

"I'm in if you're in." She announced and let him slide his fingers into her hair, as he moved forward to kiss her again.

By the time, early evening came the television had long been forgotten and there was only one thing that could separate the two of them…the loud growling of Derek's stomach. Casey pulled away from him.

"Doesn't that thing ever sleep?" She asked.

"I believe we skipped lunch." Derek said. "What do you expect?"

Casey sighed. "I suppose that's my cue to go make dinner?"  
"Or we could order in."

"Nah! I'll warm up one of my meals. Come with me?" She asked, unwrapping herself from his embrace and standing up with some difficulty.

Derek followed her into the kitchen and sat on the work-surface while she zapped baking potatoes and then heated up a Casey casserole for both of them. He stole kisses when she came close enough and she looked shyly at him while the microwave whirred.

"What happens tomorrow, Casey?" He asked.

"I go."

Derek looked away. "Okay." She raised an eyebrow and he relented. "It isn't okay…but, you're right."  
"Tomorrow is hours away, Derek."

"I know."

"We have all evening."  
"We have all night."

She nodded.

Derek looked at her. "This won't happen again, will it?"  
Casey shook her head. "I'll do a better job of staying away." Derek was looking thoughtful. "Why?"  
He shrugged. "I guess I'm finding it hard to be a gentleman."

There was a moment's quiet. "Oh." Casey said eventually.

The microwave pinged and Casey darted to the machine and retrieved the food. She plated it up with the potatoes she had micro-waved beforehand.

They ate at the breakfast bar again, forgoing the wine because they didn't want a repeat of last night. They ate in silence as if Derek's admission gave them food for thought. Every now and then they would look at each other with gentle smiles, and Derek reached over to take her hand. For a moment, Casey felt as though this was something more than just attraction, but it was a difficult enough situation without her hoping for impossibilities.

"What are you thinking?" Derek asked as he cleared the plates and loaded the dishwasher. Casey coughed because she honestly didn't think she should repeat her thoughts right then. This was about so much more for her.

"I'm thinking I'm ready for more kisses." She said, weakly. Derek smirked and helped her off the stool. When the kitchen was clean again, they made their way back to the Den but Derek paused by the door.

"Are you okay?" Casey asked with concern. He shook his head.

"No."

"What's wrong?"  
"I'm about to do something really stupid." He said, kissing her.

"Which is?" Casey felt a shiver of something but wasn't sure if it was fear or anticipation.

"Let's…" He started and then stopped.

"Yes. Let's." Casey affirmed quietly.

"You don't know what I was going to ask." He protested.

"The answer's yes, Derek. Now let's get on with it before I change my mind."

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers.

"You'll regret it tomorrow."

"No I won't. I made this decision yesterday."

"When you were drunk."  
"I haven't changed my opinion since and I'm sober now."  
"We can't Casey."

"Yes. We can. Let's go upstairs." She took his hand and led him back towards the stairs. He stopped.

"It's been a while. I'm not prepared. I don't have…"

Casey frowned not understanding what he was saying.

"I haven't got any condoms."

"Oh!" And now Casey felt a fool because she hadn't thought to bring any. _Typical inexperienced…_ she cursed herself.

"Are you on the pill?" Derek asked. "Only I know I'm clean. We get tested regularly and I've never had sex without protection."

"The pill?" Casey asked blankly…and then lied. "Yes."

"The decision's yours." He said and meant it.

"Come on Derek. Let's go to bed."

* * *

Derek woke in the early hours of the morning with Casey once again entwined around him. This time, however, she was naked and so was he. Her hair tickled his chest where it fell on his bare skin and her breath warmed his neck where her lips rested.

He tilted his head to look at her in the pale moonlight of the snowy evening and the sight tore at him.

Tonight had been a mistake.

It had been a mistake not because it hadn't been perfect but because it _was_ perfect. It had been a mistake not because she was the wrong woman but because she was exactly the _right_ woman – the only woman. And it had been a mistake because now he wouldn't be able to let go of her.

She stirred and her hand stroked his ribs sleepily, a warm smile on her lips even though her eyes were closed.

"Are you okay?" Derek murmured.

"Perfect." She said dreamily and then when he chuckled softly, she added "Don't laugh at me."

"I'm not. I'm laughing at this. You and me."

"Because this is so funny?" She huffed.

"No. Because this was so inevitable." He kissed her. "I just wish…"  
"…that it had a future. No you don't. I'm too high maintenance. You've been doing the job too long. Time to bail."

"Casey. It isn't like that."

"Please Derek. Let me think it is. It will be easier to go then."

"Stay today."  
"Why? So that we can make it even harder on ourselves?" She shook her head. "It ends in the morning…I promise."

He tightened his grip on her. "Okay. But I have you now. And there are still a few hours till dawn."

She smiled. "That's what I'm counting on."

"Really?" Derek said and his eyes grew dark. "And how do you suggest we fill the time?"

"You'll think of something." Casey lifted herself up slightly so that she could look down on him and the motion of her body was very distracting.

"The vamp's back then?" He said running a finger down her spine.

"She never left."

Derek rolled them both over. "Oh? What happened to my innocent step-sister?"  
"She got ravaged."

"Is she up for some more ravaging?"

"Bring it." Casey giggled in a way which Derek wanted to store away as his new favourite sound.

And with a kiss they both tried to forget the approaching dawn.

* * *

Casey woke at 5am. They had finally fallen asleep about three after making love again but she had set her cell phone to vibrate on the night stand at five, knowing that it wouldn't wake Derek. Fortunately, they had moved away from each other slightly and she had only to lift his arm and slide out. She quickly grabbed her clothes and stuffed them into her suitcase, then grabbing her purse she made for the door.

Where she stopped.

Casey glanced back into the room at the bed and the sleeping figure of her ex-lover and tried not to cry. Then she sighed, put down her bags and crossed silently to his side. Looking down at him sleeping was hard because she wanted him to wake and pull her into his arms again. She wanted to be told it was all a joke and that they could do what they wanted – they could be what they wanted. He wasn't in love with her but she wanted this…relationship. And she couldn't have it.

Pulling herself together, promising herself that she could cry as much as she wanted when she got home, Casey leaned over Derek's sleeping form and brushed her lips against his head.

"I love you." She whispered.

And then she turned around and left.

* * *

**AN: Before you ask, remember you've seen them in the future so the answer should be obvious. No - She isn't.**

**Next stop: The Present day.**


	20. The Present Day

**The Present Day**

Casey woke at 5am to a sky that was still dark and a bad headache. She could blame the inability to keep regular hours down to jet lag, but she'd flown the wrong way across the Atlantic for that, and her heart knew that it was something else entirely. It had been a long time since Casey had slept well because her dreams were still haunted by memories. And recent events had made the dreams more real, more vivid.

Not only that, but she had made the mistake of picking up a discarded gossip magazine on the plane, something she promised herself she would never do again, but she hadn't been able to help it. Derek's face was across the front.

"_Hockey star hits rock bottom", "Loss of wife blamed for meteoric fall from grace", "Friends and family at wits' end."_

Casey bit her bottom lip. Derek had always insisted that she ignore the gossip magazines and she knew from the few times she had been the target just exactly how little of their sensationalist press you could believe.

It didn't stop her worrying.

She would have phoned her mother for a more balanced view of Planet Derek, but her flight had been delayed and she had got in late the previous night. Robbie would have school tomorrow so she was reluctant to phone the house. Besides, she was Casey. She wasn't supposed to give two hoots what happened to her nemesis.

But she did care. She had realised when he walked into the kitchen and caught her dancing as she made his breakfast…she still loved him: more, if anything, than she had before. He had made it clear, however, what he thought of their brief relationship. And it was obvious that he was still in love with Chloe even thought they had separated, because his career was suffering.

Casey rolled onto her side and stared at the clock.

She had walked away from his bed that day nearly three years ago because she knew he would get over her before she got over him and she didn't want to be around to see the light go off in his eyes. She had returned to her apartment and spent several days crying.

Derek never called.

She guessed this was because he understood why she had gone and he realised the futility of trying to talk her out of it. Or at least that's what she hoped. For all she knew, he was glad to see the back of her. The following day, still puffy eyed, she went back to her agent and told her she was ready to get back into work, whereupon Angela promptly sent her to Australia. And Casey couldn't have been more grateful, although she wept the whole time she was on the flight and for days afterwards.

Casey had cried a lot over the past three years. Three occasions stuck out most, however.

The first was a fortnight after she had slept with Derek and she cried because her period came. She hadn't deliberately slept with him without protection. There had been no particular agenda. She just wanted to feel him. But the loss of the possibility that monthly visitor meant was enough to switch on the waterworks – which she blamed on Aunt Flo and her hormones.

The second time she cried was on the way home from a coffee house about six months after _that_ night: a coffee house where she had left Derek, knowing that he was about to propose to Chloe.

He had called her out of the blue and asked to see her because he needed to tell her something and he thought it was best if she heard it from him. In recent years Casey had become somewhat more of a realist, so instead of feeling hope that he still loved her, she went knowing she was going to hear something she wouldn't like…and she was right.

Derek had started by trying to make small talk, but she asked him to just tell her instead. She might have come across as cold and unfeeling – but she needed that camouflage for the pain she was really suffering. So he had taken a deep breath and asked her what she would say if he told her he was going to ask Chloe to marry him.

There had been a long expectant silence. It was every bit as painful as Casey had thought – and more so. Every part of her wanted to scream "No! Don't! I love you, don't do that!"

But she didn't. She had gripped her wrist under the table so hard that her nails left deep impressions. Casey had raised her eyes to meet his, and in a calm voice she had simply said "Congratulations!"

Derek had blinked and when his eyes reappeared they looked different, shaded and Casey knew then that the light had gone.

Somehow she had managed to sit there and discuss the marriage – he knew Chloe would say yes, apparently she had been dropping hints since they started dating. He said he knew it was quick, but there didn't seem to be any point in waiting and then he talked about Chloe not wanting children. Casey was surprised at how little it seemed to faze him, a man who she knew adored kids and had often talked about his "squad of Venturi hockey stars".

After a while, when she could stand the emptiness in his eyes no longer, she made her excuses and left.

The third time she cried was on the wedding day. Casey didn't go. She made sure she was across the other side of the world, and shook her head when Angela tried to re-arrange her schedule to make sure she could be there.

Casey sent a gift and it was the one way where she allowed herself the luxury of showing her true feelings.

Chloe had sent Casey directions for the wedding gift list with the unused invitation. When the latter went on line to view the gifts and make her selection she had fully intended to pick something normal for the new couple. But, unable to make up her mind she had given up with the official list. She had been staying abroad at the time and was in one of the larger northern cities in England. As she strolled around the shopping district the following day, she spotted a delicate vase from one of the Staffordshire potteries. It was pretty, and tasteful – well Casey thought so anyway. But she also knew that it was something that Chloe would absolutely _hate_.

Casey bought it, had it wrapped and dispatched to Toronto certain that it would probably never see the light of day.

But even if it did, she knew Derek would never spot that the small blue flowers in its design were forget-me-nots.

Ten days later, in Toronto, the new bride opened the parcel and frowned. Derek noticed.

"What's up?"  
"Your sister really does have appalling taste, doesn't she?"

"Marti? Yeah well, you get used to it after a while."  
"Not Marti, the step one."  
"Lizzie?"

"No. Casey."

Derek sat up in his chair. "Why?" He asked cautiously, wondering what Casey had done. He had little or no communication with her anymore, and it hadn't been anything of a surprise to him at least that she cried off the wedding…although Chloe and the rest of the family weren't impressed.

"She's sent us a wedding present…honestly. Why she couldn't just have ordered us something for the kitchen, I don't know."

_Probably because we have everything we could possibly need in the kitchen and Casey knows that because she put it all there._ Derek thought.

"What did she get us?"

"This hideous vase!" Chloe gasped out. "I mean look at it. It's the sort of thing you put wild flowers in - on a grandma's dressing table. It's even got forget-me-nots in the design. Urgh! That's going straight to the thrift shop."

She made to place the vase in the "reject" pile but Derek deftly removed it from her hands.

"No." He said firmly. "I don't get rid of family gifts." He insisted.

"But…"

"No Chloe. If you don't want to look at it, stick it in my bedroom."

"_Your_ bedroom!" She exclaimed. Derek cursed himself for the slip.

"I mean my old bedroom. It fits the décor in there. It belongs in there. Please Babe."

She huffed. "I don't see why it's important." But then she relented. After all, she was married to him now and before long she would have persuaded him to ditch this house with all it's _period features_ and buy a nice modern penthouse in the centre of town. If she played her cards right the vase wouldn't survive the house move.

She smiled sweetly and gave in.

Chloe returned to work the following day, her tight schedule making for a short honeymoon. No sooner was she out of the door than Derek climbed the stairs to the former Master suite and opened the door. He still loved this room, but it wasn't for the location or the view, or even for the fact that Casey had loved it so much. He loved it for the woman he had made love to here, and for the memories of that night.

He had wanted to wake beside Casey that morning. He had wanted to tell her how he couldn't let her go, but she must have had some inkling of how it would be, because when he woke she was already gone. There had been no goodbye, whispered or written, just the mingling of their bodies over the previous evening. And he had to be content with that. She had voted with her feet, and he knew there was no point in pushing it.

Moving on had been tortuous, but he'd tried to do it. He wallowed for a month and then picked up the first available girl in the vicinity – who just happened to be that persistent celebrity groupie. After five months with Chloe, he realised that he wasn't looking for love anymore, just a companion and Chloe was decent enough that he reckoned he could make a go of it. She was using him, he realised that. He made her look even better than her supermodel looks. So he figured they were even. It wasn't a healthy basis for a marriage, but he wondered just how many marriages were based on healthy foundations.

Besides, he'd given Casey chance to talk him out of it, and she hadn't.

That had hurt. He had hoped that presented with the idea that Derek was going to get married she would beg him not to. He had hoped that it might spark something between them again. But it didn't, and the coldness calmness of her reaction had sliced through him.

But as he placed the forget-me-not vase on the dresser in _their_ bedroom, Derek almost wished that she had sent the gift sooner, because then he would have been able to phone her and ask her about it. Did _she_ know that the flowers were forget-me-nots? He snorted. Of course she did. Casey was a keener. So what did the flowers mean?

Derek could never ask her now. He was a husband – and not to Casey. He was committed to Chloe. He had not married her lightly.

The Derek and Casey ship had sailed and he wasn't on it anymore.

That didn't mean that he would throw away the vase – or the memories associated with this room.

* * *

The clock beside Casey's bed suddenly rang as she stared at it, lost in memories of that night. She stirred herself, smacking the clock silent and climbed out of bed for the shower. She had a meeting this afternoon in Toronto, but first she was going to drive to London and see her family.

She wanted to know what was going on with Derek.


	21. Meetings

"Hi Casey!" Nora greeted her daughter with a kiss on the cheek as if she was used to seeing her every day rather than the fact that it had been nearly two months since they had last been together – and she hadn't been forewarned about Casey's visit.

"You just missed Robbie. He's just left for school."

Despite the lack of warning, Casey had known that her mother was going to be in. It was a Thursday, the day of the week Nora reserved for staying at home and going through her business accounts as well as her designs. In some ways, Casey envied her mother the predictability of her life. The certainties it brought were exactly what Casey had aimed for in her life, but time, career choices and to a large degree Derek changed her perception of that as being her ideal. Now she saw the advantages of a less planned life – as well as the disadvantages.

"That's okay. I'm back for a while now, I'm sure I'll catch up with him soon. Maybe you should all come to lunch one Sunday." Casey said as she removed her coat and boots and followed Nora into the kitchen.

"Is everything okay?" Nora asked a while later as they sat down with steaming cups of hot chocolate. Casey smiled.

"Same old same old. Nothing new." She said. Nora sighed with relief making Casey frown.

"Well I'm glad one of you seems okay at least." Nora said, taking a sip of hot chocolate.

"Problems?" Her daughter asked, even though she knew there were problems with Derek, it surprised her that Nora thought there were issues with Casey's siblings.

"Do you want a cookie? I'm in a cookie kind of mood." Nora announced and Casey's eyes widened. It took quite a bit to get Nora to have hot chocolate _and_ cookies. She was worried about every pound that went onto her figure since Robbie's birth twelve years ago.

Casey nodded, thinking that to decline might halt her mother's evident need to let loose with the family gossip. Nora resumed her seat, placing a cookie jar in front of them.

"So what's wrong?" Casey asked, reaching for and then biting into a chocolate chip cookie that was homemade.

Nora fidgeted. "Well…There's Lizzie, of course. She's still getting over the _incident_ last year with the trailer trash cult member. Marti is dating her way through NYU, and now it appears Edwin's wife has been sleeping with the gardener and there's a hole the size of Texas in their household accounts."

"Oh." What more could she say? She took another bit and a sip. "Is Ed okay?"

Nora shrugged. "He's dealing with it in his own way..."

"Meaning?"

"He's alternating between hard nose business man who has every lawyer and private eye in the state after her, and behaving like a twelve year old sap, sobbing into his Batman bed linen about the duplicity of women."  
"Ed has Batman bed linen?"

"Figure of speech." Nora explained. "…I think." She sighed. "The trouble is, normally I'd set Derek on him and they'd sort the situation out together, but…" She glanced up at Casey. "You know the situation in _that_ quarter."

"The whole world knows the situation in that quarter." Casey agreed without exaggeration.

"Derek is so busy moping over Chloe that he doesn't know his front from his rear." Nora had been tempted to use stronger language, but screwy though her family life was right now, she still wasn't at the point where she could bring herself to curse heavily…yet. "I don't suppose you could go sort him out?" She asked hopefully.

"Ed? I doubt it, Mom." Casey said, trying to ignore the flash of pain at Chloe's name. "He and I never really got passed the ol' shared bathroom trauma when he was ten. Have you tried Lizzie? She always manages to drag him out of his funk. Maybe sorting Ed out is what she needs too. She can go in there and worry about someone else instead."

"Actually, I meant can't you sort out Derek? You and he are supposed to be best friends after all."

Casey looked away. "No Mom."

Nora watched her daughter closely. "Why? I know something happened and you fell out but two years is a long time to harbour a grudge. And Chloe isn't there now. I know you didn't like her."

"And you did?" Casey asked in disbelief. Nora looked embarrassed because they both knew the Nora had hated her daughter-in-law but had done a fantastic job of covering it up so that Chloe hadn't been made to feel awkward. With the way she behaved to the family it was more than she deserved.

"What exactly did Derek do?" Nora broached what she knew was an awkward subject.  
"Don't ask mom. It's just Derek and I, and over a decade of lies." Casey decided not to mention the fact that the break nearly three years ago was about something different than the latest break.

"Lies? Come on, Casey. You've been so supportive of each other over the years. I mean you've lived together for most of that time. And even when you didn't you've always lived close by. I know he hurt you some how but…"  
"It's a long involved story mom, and believe me one that you are better off not knowing about."  
"You mean you don't want to whine to me about something horrific that Derek has done? …You two _have_ grown up!"

Her daughter shook her head. Nora sat forward and placed her hand over Casey's.

"Case. He's a mess. She's really done a number on him. He's in danger of losing his career, his self-esteem, his home and maybe with the antics he's been up to, something worse. He's endangering himself and others."

"Antics?"

"Dressing room scraps, turning up for training sessions drunk. George tracked him down to a bar last week and he says he didn't recognise him at first."

Casey was silent for a while. "He's a grown man, Mom. He doesn't need his sister sticking her nose in."

"The trouble is, sweetheart, he won't listen to any of us."

"He definitely won't talk to me and I'm not sure _I_ want to talk to _him_."  
Nora straightened in her chair. "Casey. He's your brother. I can only guess at what is going through his mind at the moment because he won't share. The only thing I know is that every time someone tries to talk to him he just asks where _you_ are. Now. Feud or no feud, I think you need to seriously consider whether you are ready to see him sink lower than the cess-pool he's in when all that it might take is a visit from you."

"It won't help. I can't go and see him."  
"A phone call then."

"No. Mom."

Nora pursed her lips in disapproval. "You know it must be nice to have your life all sorted: to know that everything will work for you; A nice house, a good job, plenty of money, and I've no doubt, plenty of romantic interest. But not everyone is as settled and as happy as you Casey. And you need to be there for your siblings just as they are there for you. I can't believe you can be so cold about it all."

Casey stared at her mother and then she stood very deliberately and picked up her purse.

"Firstly," She started. "You have absolutely _no_ idea what my life is like. How it feels to be away from home all the time, away from your _family_. I don't have a life, I have an existence. And as for romance…there is no one, Mom. There can't _be_ anyone. I fell in love, it wasn't reciprocated, and yet I can't move on. My job, my house, my car, my money all come with a price. The world watches my every move. I have no private life because it plays out in the media. Not as bad as Derek's I grant you, but last week someone tried to get into my hotel room while I slept. Try sleeping with one eye open all the time.

Secondly, I _am_ here for my siblings. I called Lizzie after the incident and she told me to go take a long run off a short cliff – as she has every right to do so. And Ed…I didn't know. He didn't tell me. I will call him and see if he needs anything. Did you know by the way that Robbie is struggling in chemistry? He phoned me on Monday to ask for help. I spent an hour talking him through the periodic table. And Marti? I got an email from her last night. That's the third email we've exchanged this week.

The only person I am not in touch with is Derek and that is because…" She took a deep breath. "That's because he hurt me badly, and I'm not sure if I can forgive him. He took something that meant the world to me and cheapened it with a stupid comment. It made me realise that our relationship has just been one long conflict and we were better off out of each other's lives. So I'm being the bigger person and staying out of his business as I need him to stay out of mine."

She stopped. "And you need to realise something once and for all mom. Derek is not my sibling and he never will be. Don't hold out for that because it won't happen. It _can't _happen. We share a family, but please don't give us a title, because there isn't one that fits."

Nora stepped forward quickly to stop her from storming out of the house. She met her daughter's look for a long time before speaking.

"You're right. I didn't know any of that and for speaking out of turn I am truly sorry. But you're wrong about Derek, Casey. He needs you. He's asking for you. Whatever he said…is it so bad?"  
"Yes mom it is."

"Words, Casey. That's all it is. And he's sorry. He told George he didn't mean what he said. He says you misinterpreted it."

Casey shook her head. "It's not that simple."

"Talk to him, Casey. Please."

"I can't."

"What on earth happened between you that you are in this state?" Nora asked. Casey wasn't sure how to answer that as she raised her face slowly to look at her mom so she didn't. Nora felt a chill when she saw the pain in Casey's eyes.

* * *

In New York, Chloe Prescott, formerly Venturi crossed her long, slender legs in their tight mini-skirt and regarded the man across from her.

"Phil…You know me. I'm a determined woman. I'm capable of anything."

Her agent leaned back in his chair, his hands forming a tent as he watched her.

"This could backfire very badly. I mean, why take the risk? I know you're talented but…why not stick to what you are best at? You look fantastic." He flattered her.

"I want to raise my profile."

"Your profile is stellar, babe. You're the face of America, the darling of Canada and you have your own parking place on the Paris runways. What more do you need?"

"I'm not a success anymore. I fail at things."  
He sniffed. "The only thing you failed at was that lousy almost marriage to that hockey dude."

"It wasn't an "almost" marriage!" She hissed. "He's my husband."  
"Not in the eyes of the law, sweetheart. Or his eyes, by the looks of things."

She looked away. "Yes…well. That is a temporary set-back. He'll come around and then we'll get married again."

"I thought he was refusing to talk to you."

"Which is why I need to grab his attention in a big way…"  
Phil groaned. "Don't cause me a problem Chloe. I don't need bad publicity or a law suit."

She smiled sweetly. "I'm not going to do anything _illegal_." She insisted. "And there is no such thing as bad publicity. Derek just needs reminding of what he is missing."

"Yes. But these things are designed to make the celebs look bad so that everyone can have a laugh at their expense."

"Oh they won't make _me_ look bad." Chloe said with certainty.

"Really? How come you're so sure?"  
"I know the producer, and he's arranging for me to have the best of everything. Coaches, stylist…the works. You'll see. A new star will be born! And Derek…will be on the phone to me faster than you can say "forgiveness"."

Phil shrugged. "I've registered my protest. I guess the decision is up to you. Who else is taking part?"

"I don't know." Chloe lied. "But I had heard they were trying to fill the place with D-listers and wannabe celebs. You know, a newscaster, Olympic medallist, some minor, nobody author…"

* * *

"I don't think this is a good idea." Casey said, looking at the two women in front of her. One of them was her agent Angela, and the other was a researcher for some new talent show that they were currently trying to talk her into. She was tired from the round trip to London she had made that morning: tired from the driving and tired from the emotions the minor confrontation with her mother had churned up. They had parted friends again, but neither woman was comfortable: Casey, because she now knew things were really bad with Derek, and Nora…Nora because she both wanted to know what had gone on between Derek and Casey – and didn't want to know at the same time.

"Miss McDonald. It would really help us out. We need to have a thinking person taking part. Without saying too much, the other contestants are not exactly renowned for their intellectual capabilities. You on the other hand are an established author. The audience is only used to seeing you on the bumpf. This is your chance to shine." She grinned. "I have it on good authority that you can sing and dance a bit."

Casey glared at Angela. "Did you tell her that?"  
Her friend looked unabashed. "It's the truth. You told me the talent shows of your youth were some of your happiest memories."

"You make me sound like my grandmother." Casey objected.

"Aw! Come on Casey. Live a little. Kick up those ballet dancer legs of yours and knock their spots off."

"Jazz…Angela, not ballet."

Angela turned to the young woman beside her and smiled smugly. "See I told you."

Angela's partner in crime leaned forward.

"Miss McDonald. I don't know if this helps or not, but, this show is a special one. It's part of a new telethon to raise money for childhood cancers. Every call made by the general public for voting purposes makes a substantial donation to the various charities. And the winner gets a monetary prize to pass onto the charity of their choice."

Casey's eyes widened. The charity aspect was attractive. One of Casey's college friends had a little girl who had just fought a hard battle with leukaemia and Casey was keen to give back as much as she could to say thank you to all the staff involved in her care. She had already donated some signed gallery proofs to an auction in the little girl's name.

"Miss…?"

"Greeby." The young girl said. Casey's jaw dropped.

"Any relation to Paul Greeby of Sir John Sparrow Thompson High?" Casey asked.

"He's my uncle, why do you know him?"

"He was my counsellor at school. Wow! How's he doing?"

"Uncle Paul's doing great. He just set up his own practice providing couples therapy."

"Couples therapy?" Casey gulped. "I thought his degree was in Computer Science?"

"It was but he went back to college after he left your school and extended his psychology qualifications. He says he had more fun trying to unravel the lives of teenagers than he ever had writing machine code on a 68000." She grinned at Casey's bemused look. "Yeah. That one went over our heads too."

"Pass on my best to him would you? If he remembers me."

"I'm sure he will. He's good with names."

"Anyway, Miss Greeby." Casey tried to get back on track. "I have to admit that the charity aspect is interesting. I have a particular cancer charity that is close to my heart that I would love to see get more publicity and funding. I'm concerned though. Who am I up against?"  
Paul's niece reeled off a list of names, some of whom Casey had heard off. Then the young girl frowned.

"There's someone else as well, but I can't remember her name."

Angela stood up. "Time's pressing Casey. We have another meeting across town in half an hour. What's your answer?"

Casey looked thoughtful "Oh what the hell! I'll do it." She announced suddenly. "But only because it will make a small child very happy. When do I start?"


	22. Parental Concern

Nora phoned Casey that night to apologise again, but her daughter waved away the apology saying it should be her that was apologising. She told her mom a little more about the crazed fan and the additional security they had put in place - and a bit about how she was coping with life in general.

Nora wanted to ask about Casey's broken heart, because she was so surprised that Casey had kept it a secret, but she didn't. Somehow she knew it was all still too raw.

"How is he really doing, Mom?" Casey asked when a pause came in the conversation. There was no need for Casey to speak the name. Nora knew.

She sighed. "He lets George meet with him, but he says he doesn't trust himself around the rest of the family. George doesn't push it because he thinks Derek is right. He's a mess Casey. I could cheerfully wring Chloe's neck."

Even as she said it, Nora knew that something didn't add up with that. She'd done a lot of thinking since seeing Casey this morning. Derek was grieving like someone who had lost the love of his life, yet remembering her step-son and his "wife" together she couldn't see how Chloe fell into that category at all. Which sort of begged the question why was Derek in such a state? The only thing he had really lost was his image. Nora knew that Derek could be shallow at times, but she didn't think he would throw everything away because someone made him look bad. What was Derek grieving over? His friendship with Casey? That actually seemed more likely than the loss of the blonde model who had looked down on her "in-laws" and who hadn't seemed to be anything more than a momentary distraction for her step-son.

"You know he'd be a lot better if he could talk to you." Nora prompted. "If he at least knew _you_ still cared."

Casey sighed. "I didn't say I didn't care mom." _Understatement of the year, McDonald!_ But…it's too late to try and pretend we're still friends."

"So you're just going to throw the friendship down the pan?" Nora sounded incredulous.

"Why is it _my_ fault? Derek started this." Casey, on the other hand, sounded weary.

Nora shifted her position on the bed where she was lying. She had sent Robbie and George out bowling so that she could have uninterrupted phone time.

"Is this about Chloe? Because need I remind you, she isn't even on the scene now. You could at least have gone to see him when Chloe left."

Nora didn't know about Casey breaking into Derek's home to cook him breakfast or the day afterwards that Derek and Casey had spent together post-Chloe. As far as she was aware they hadn't seen each other since before the wedding. She had assumed that the comment he had made had been made over the phone. Neither of them had given her reason to believe otherwise.

"Chloe didn't leave Mom, Derek threw her out, remember? I don't understand why he is behaving the way he is. I did go to see him when all that imploded and believe me he was upset about it all, but he certainly wasn't _grieving_ about it.

"You went to see him?"

"Yes. I spent a couple of days with him…which is when he said _it_."

After a pause during which time Nora processed her daughter's comments and she decided it didn't change her viewpoint she pushed again. "He said something that you _misinterpreted_. Come on Casey, that doesn't make it his fault either." Nora pointed out, wondering why it suddenly sounded like she was defending Derek.

"It's not just that, Mom. That was a momentary thing. There's more to it."

"You know I'd understand it more if you just told me what he said." Nora suggested. Casey ignored that because she couldn't tell her mother that her unhappiness stemmed from Derek's rejection of their relationship. "It's just…oh…I don't know. Derek and I…it's not healthy. It eats at both of us, we argue all the time." She exaggerated. It wasn't the arguing she worried about. It was the loss of the warmth in his eyes when he looked at her. She didn't want to spend time with him because she hated the coldness.

Of course, the coldness hadn't been obvious when she broke into his house, at least not until he made the "freak" comment.

Nora said nothing.

"I do care mom." Casey admitted finally. "I care a lot." _Too much_.

"Then call him."

"And say what?"

"Hi?"

Casey smiled to herself.

"I'll think about it."

* * *

The following day, against the advice of her husband, Nora went to see Derek. She decided to go to his house before breakfast hoping that she might catch him sober – or at least sober enough to understand a bit of honest talking.

She showed her ID to the guard at the bottom of the drive and followed the drive up the hill, pulling over to one side when she reached the main house. The outside of the house looked fine, the gardens, whilst snow-covered, well maintained, and she wondered if George was exaggerating when he described the mess his son was living in.

When he eventually answered the door, bleary-eyes and half-dressed, she realised her husband had been conservative in his statements.

Derek's hair was unwashed and his clothes were mis-matched and dishevelled. There was a stale smell hovering around him and his eyes were blood-shot.

"Nora?" He sounded surprised…and then shocked when she pushed her way into the house. Confused, Derek shut the door against the arctic wind and turned to face her.

"Is everything okay? You're here obscenely early."

"Are you alone?" Nora asked out of courtesy. She doubted any self-respecting girl, groupie or not, would have stepped over the doorstep for a guy looking like Derek right now.

Derek snorted. "My "wife's" not here if that's what you mean."

"Drop the snark, Derek. We both know this isn't about Chloe. The question is what is it about?"

He watched her carefully, wishing his head was clearer because he was in danger here.

"What can I say? Life's shit."

"Language, Venturi. You're not too old for me to tan your hide – and failing my ability to do that I'll just call in reinforcements. I'm sure Abby would love to know what you are up to."

"You've been with my dad too long, Nora." Derek answered. "Coffee?"

Nora grinned. "Nice try. But I'm not leaving here without some answers." She sniffed. "And I'm not sitting down to coffee without you taking a shower and changing those god-awful clothes."

"Now I know where your daughter gets it from." He retorted.

"Hmm…Casey? Heard from her lately?"

Derek frowned. "No."

Nora smiled. "I have. I'll trade you information if you have a shower."

* * *

In the time it took him to shower and change, Nora had started to clear the kitchen. When he emerged smelling sweeter and looking a hundred times better he stood in the doorway and watched his step-mother pottering around Casey's domain with amusement, wondering why it was that both women immediately headed for the kitchen when it came to project "make-over Derek". Casey's words came to him and an image of her snuggled into his arms.

"_Anyone with half a brain knows the only way to get through to you is through your stomach. I just thought you'd feel better if I fed you."_

Sure enough, as soon as the kitchen looked presentable again, Nora was beating pancake batter and heating butter.

"You don't need to do that." Derek said, settling himself at the breakfast bar and taking a sip of the coffee she'd poured for him.

"No. But if I wave pancakes and syrup in front of you you'll give up more info…" Nora was honest. Derek grinned.

"Casey makes bacon…" He pointed out hopefully - smirking.

"Casey also, no doubt, does your shopping. There's no bacon in your fridge." Nora said, watching the pan.

Derek grimaced. "She used to." He took a deep breath. "She used to manage my on-line grocery account based on what she knew she'd made and what my housekeeper emailed her that I'd eaten. She doesn't anymore."  
Nora nodded. "Where's your housekeeper?"  
"I let her go. I didn't think it was fair on her to make her deal with all this."

"What did you expect, Derek? Casey to come round and do your cleaning?"  
Derek shrugged. "No. But I thought if I let it go enough I might at least get a phone call from her bemoaning my poor hygiene."  
Nora appreciated the honesty, but it didn't change anything.

"She won't call Derek. I don't know what you said to her, but she's badly hurt."

Derek closed his eyes and groaned. "I described our…friendship the way I thought the media would see it and she took it to mean that it was my own personal view."

"Oh." Nora busied herself flipping the pancakes onto the plate. "What word did you use?"  
"Erm…" He couldn't answer.

"Derek. I know you're in love with my daughter, now tell me what you said."  
Her step-son gaped…and answered her. "I said they would see us as "freaks". I didn't mean that was how I saw "us"."

Nora nodded.

"How is she, Nora?"

Nora placed the plate in front of him.

"She's surviving."

He pulled a face.

"But that's all. Derek, step-sisters don't usually cook all your meals, manage your home…or sever all ties with you when you use the wrong word to describe your relationship. How long?"

"What?"

"How long were you together?"

He looked down at the plate of pancakes which he couldn't eat. "One night." He answered truthfully.

That was not what Nora expected.

"_One night!_"

"One night or thirteen years…depending on how you look at it." He picked up a fork and pushed at the pancake. "We did nothing for thirteen years, and then…"

"Then you acted. Why did it end?"  
"Casey was worried about the impact it would have on the family." Derek raised his eyes to look at _her_ mother. "She left in the middle of the night."

_Oh Casey!_ Thought Nora.

"Were we really such awful parents?" Nora asked. "That you thought we'd react badly."

"Come on Nora! Your daughter slept with your step-son. Tell me honestly that you'd have welcomed us with open arms!"

Nora looked at him for a long time. "If I'd have known that you'd both be going through this…yes. I would."

Derek blinked.

* * *

Now that the cat was out of the bag, Derek was starving. Decent food had been placed in front of him with the minimum amount of effort. It smelled and looked fantastic. He started shovelling food in.

"Sometimes you look so like your father it frightens me." Nora said in amusement.

He grinned up at her, syrup dripping from his chin.

"You need to stop with the self-destruction Derek. It's hurting Casey. It places her in a difficult position. She believes she can't interfere and she's reduced to watching you throw everything away…including her."  
"It's not as important to her." He said when his mouth was only half-full."  
"Yeah…right." Nora rubbed at the space between her eyes. "Derek. She's hurting, and you being so reckless is making things worse. It isn't going to resolve things and it isn't going to make her come back. You need to grow a pair and behave like an adult. Maybe then she'll take you seriously."

"I want to talk to her…explain that I didn't mean it. But no one will give me her number."

"I have her number, but it won't do you any good."

"Oh?"  
"She's going to be incommunicado for a while…five weeks I think."  
"Why?" Derek frowned.

"She's agreed to take part in a reality TV show."  
"Reality TV? Casey?" Derek was surprised. "You're kidding!"

"Nope. It's for charity…childhood cancer, I think."  
"Oh. That makes sense." Derek knew about Clare's daughter. He was still in touch with their college friends the same way Casey was. "What sort of reality TV show?"

"Something with random celebs over five weeks, culminating in a telethon."

Derek went cold. "Stars and Hearts?" he asked.

Nora nodded. Derek groaned.

"What?" She asked.

"I don't sleep well…before you arrived I was on-line looking at…things."

"And?"  
"There was a big publicity thing and a statement from Chloe's agency." He glanced up at his step-mother. "It said Chloe was delighted to announce that she was participating in "Stars with Hearts".

Nora stared at him. "That's not good."

"Nope. Casey and Chloe in that sort of environment – in front of the cameras…"

Casey's mother grimaced. "I'll tell George to clear his diary."


	23. Arrival

The car drew up outside the large mansion and Casey glanced up with interest at the faux-gothic structure. Some television producer somewhere had delusions of grandeur when he paid for this house. It was…ridiculous. There was no other word for it; more castle than house, more Dracula than the Cullens.

Ridiculous - and her home for the next five weeks!

As the cab driver dashed around to open her door, she grabbed her purse and searched the entrance to the grey building hopefully. She had no idea who she was meeting or what was in store for her because her cell phone had died permanently the day before and whilst she knew where she had to be and when, she hadn't been able to get in touch with Paul's niece to confirm.

It made Casey nervous. Her previous brushes with fame had been short and planned, even the ones with Derek by her side. This was more unpredictable, and she had been regretting the decision to come ever since it was made. Particularly because Nora still hadn't been able to reassure her that Derek was okay. Her mother had told her that she had spoken with him, but then refused to share.

The car door opened and she climbed out, the driver disappearing round to the trunk ready to remove her bags.

"Miss McDonald!" A familiar voice called and Casey recognised the form of Paul's niece.

"Miss Greeby!"

"Please…call me Luan. We're going to be spending lots of time together and "Miss Greeby" makes me feel like an errant school girl."  
Casey grinned, taking a liking to the young woman. "Then it's Casey…and you're right. We're going to be good friends I'm sure. I'm sorry I didn't call to confirm, my cell died."

"That's fine. I…erm…need to go through a few things with you but we can do that now you are here. Let me show you to your room so you can get settled in."

Luan was dressed in a smart but inexpensive suit in a lovely deep burnt orange colour that suited her dark skin perfectly. Casey envied her the ability to wear the colour because it was warm and not at all garish. The researcher led Casey into the house and up the main staircase to the upper levels; a short man of about forty picking up Casey's suitcases and following behind them.

The inside of the mansion was as dark and foreboding as the outside and Casey shivered. Luan giggled.

"Horrible isn't it? Apparently, the person who built the house here had shipped it brick by brick from Scotland where it was the country seat of a distant member of the Royal family in the time of Jane Austen. By all accounts he was a strange guy. The house is riddled with secret passages and strange nooks. The studio exec who forked out the fortune to move it in the fifties was just as strange. When he died he left the place to the production company for use as a set. Fortunately, the current owners are quite business focussed and when it isn't being used as a set it functions as a corporate hospitality centre. The rooms have been altered to have en-suites and other modern facilities, but because of the requirement that it look authentic in films everything is very well hidden. I hope you like horror movies."

Casey nodded. "I've watched a fair few." She said, and allowed her mind a very brief flicker back to nights spent in the shared house in Kingston with Derek, James and Carl.

"There are three levels to the house: the ground-level first floor where all the rehearsal rooms, dining areas, sitting rooms etc are located; the middle or second floor where the eight of you starting out in the competition will be staying; and the top floor where the production staff and hotel management etc are located. You each have your own room, but you are encouraged to spend some down time in the shared areas."

Casey nodded as they reached a room at the end of the corridor.

"And this is your room." Luan said, throwing open the door.

As rooms went it was dark, irregular-shaped and strangely eerie. It even had a small balcony covered in ivy. They entered and the small man behind them slipped past and stacked the suitcases beside the bed.

"I'll let you into a secret." Luan said softly. "They wanted you to have one of the rooms further down the hall, but it was next to that racing car driver…you know the one who just got arrested for trashing that hotel. I thought you might appreciate the peace and quiet down here. The room's not as nice but…"  
Casey smiled. "No…that's fine. I appreciate the thought process."

She crossed to the bed and sat down. Luan shifted uneasily.

"Erm…Casey?" She moved to sit down beside her.

"Why do I get the feeling you're about to tell me something I don't want to hear."

Luan winced. "Because you're smart…and I look nervous?"

They giggled.

"Look, I'm sorry. I realised this morning _why_ I couldn't tell you the name of that other person. It was because they didn't tell me."

"And?"

"It's Chloe Venturi."

"Prescott." Casey corrected automatically without thinking. "She's not his wife."

Luan nodded and waited for the realisation to hit.

"Hang on. Chloe and I are going to be competing against each other for the duration of this show?" Casey looked horrified.

"Or until one or other of you gets eliminated. I'm sorry. I'd have warned you if I had known."

"Great!" muttered Casey in a voice which sounded anything but happy. "Does Chloe know?"  
Luan looked shifty again. "That's the thing that has me worried more than anything else." Paul's niece said and her voice was a whisper. "I think she had some hand in your selection."

* * *

After she had unpacked, Casey decided to explore. There was still an hour until the rest of the guests were due to arrive and with them would come the television crews. Casey had wondered out loud why she had been allowed to arrive early and Luan had merely shrugged when Casey speculated that it was probably because she wasn't important or famous enough to warrant media attention.

But Casey was wrong in that assumption. Chloe had persuaded her producer friend to arrange it thus. The media were actually chomping at the bit to get to Derek Venturi's step-sister – now that they knew who she was. The amount of time he had spent with her in the past had them desperate to know more about her. That and the fact that she was one of the few people he allowed into his inner sanctum after his split from Chloe.

The latter wanted to be the one arriving to a gaggle of pressmen – not have her former step-sister-in-law take centre stage. She had asked the producer to mis-inform the press about Casey's arrival time.

Luan was busy arranging things for the other contestants, but she promised to come and see Casey before everyone else arrived so that she could explain the format of the competition to her. So Casey wandered the corridors of the gothic monstrosity, familiarising herself with the layout and the facilities.

Not all of the building was dark and unfamiliar. She quickly came across a number of conference rooms on the first floor which looked as though they had been re-fitted to take on the role of rehearsal rooms. The thick walls to the rooms gave them good sound-proofing and each room was equipped with an iPod dock, piano and a sprung floor. The feel of the rooms was familiar to Casey reminding her of the many hours she had spent – still spent- learning dance routines. In one particular room there was an immediate temptation to kick off her heels and spin around, despite the stretched jeans she was wearing.

It was a temptation she quickly gave into. She moved to the iPod dock, her eyes widening as she saw that the iPod within it was loaded with hundreds of tracks. She flicked through them and when she saw one she recognised, smiling as she selected it.

The unmistakable tones of Depeche Mode filled the room and she slipped easily into the old routine she knew backwards. She had always thought "Personal Jesus" was an apt title for this routine, because it had always calmed her when she was nervous or upset. She had trawled it out for a couple of competitions, altering the routine as her skill level increased. Today she chose a more basic version so that she could cope with the restrictions placed on her by her jeans.

By the time the music ran to a halt, she was grinning broadly and life seemed a better place. She fell to her end position and a new sound broke through the air.

"Fuck me backwards with a broomstick!" A very British, very Cockney voice cried.

"I'd rather not darling. You'll have to rely on Jordan for that." An equally British, but more cut-glass _female_ accent replied.

Casey turned in surprise.

Standing by the door, mouth agape was Luan. Beside her were two new figures: a very tall, obviously camp but, nevertheless, well-built guy of about forty and a slim, but large-chested lady of a similar age. Casey looked horrified at being caught doing something she hadn't obtained permission for doing but before she could say anything, the camp guy spoke.

"Oooo. I can't _wait_ for that fucker Maurice to see you sugar pie!" he exclaimed.

Casey stepped forward. "Luan. I'm so sorry, I…" But again, she was interrupted, this time by the Lady.

"Sorry? For what? Trevor's right, darling. Maurice is going to throw a fit when he sees you."  
Casey frowned. Luan moved to reassure her. "Casey, this is Harriet and Trevor. They are going to be your trainers for the duration. Trevor is your dance instructor and Harriet is your singing coach. Trevor also does a nice side line in costume selection. Each of the contestants will have a dedicated team with them. This is your team." She leaned forward and whispered. "Personally, I think you've got the best. Some of the others are more famous…these are more _fun_."

Trevor swept up to Casey and dramatically kissed the back of her hand.

"You, duckie, have made my fucking year." He announced. "Ooo. I can't wait!" He giggled. Harriet rolled her eyes and held out a well-manicured hand to Casey for her to shake.

"Excuse him. He's on cloud nine because Maurice has just stolen Little Miss Ego out from under Trevor's nose, leaving him with –and I quote- the "sloppy leftovers"…and now Trevor has found out that the "Sloppy leftovers" are actually rather good. Tell me…do you sing?"

Casey, still slightly bemused, nodded.

Harriet walked over to the piano in a way that spoke of finishing schools and Cheltenham Ladies' College. She sat down, all business.

"Do you know this?" She said and began to play the introduction to "Killing me softly." Casey nodded.

"Sing!" She demanded. Casey did as she was told.

After a few minutes, Trevor sneaked over to the rehearsal room door. He opened it, peaked around and slammed it shut, locking it behind him.

"I don't know about her killing _him_ softly." He announced. "But she's killing me!" Casey frowned.

"In a good way duckie. In a good way." Trevor added, and Harriet nodded. Luan had a big grin on her face.

"When you said you could sing and dance…you weren't exaggerating." She laughed.

Trevor was looking at Harriet. "We need a game plan. I say we keep Casey's abilities under wraps for a while. You know…nice easy dance routine to start, then blow them out of the water in the second week or something."

Harriet raised an eyebrow. "You really do have it in for Maurice don't you? You know, you can take the old _jilted_ lover thing a little too far Trevor."

"Hey. He started it with that "leftovers" comment. I'm sure Casey doesn't appreciate being compared to cold Irish stew."

"Seriously?" Casey asked. Luan nodded.

"Maurice wasn't very polite. Tell me. Can Chloe sing?"

Casey shrugged. "I've no idea. We've only met once."

Harriet looked surprised. "I thought she was your sister-in-law."

"She met and went through a "marriage" ceremony with my _step_-brother during a three year period when he and I were…estranged. I once bumped into her when I was sneaking into his house…We had a terse conversation and I left. End of."

"Sneaking into his house?"

"His housekeeper was dreadful." Casey replied as though that explained everything, and when she saw their confused looks, she shrugged. "Long story. I'm a clean freak." She winced as she uttered the word "freak". Silence fell.

Trevor recovered first. "Well I doubt she's anywhere near as good as you. Do you still dance regularly?"

"When my tour schedule allows. And occasionally I teach a class or two."

Trevor turned to Luan in amusement. "Do you know I actually groaned when they told me I was going to be training an author?" He slung an arm around her shoulder. "Duckie, you and I are going to make beautiful dance moves together."

* * *

Derek lay on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. He was deep in thought. The process went on for a while and then when he tore his eyes away from the flat white surface and looked to his left, his eyes lit on the delicate vase beside the window onto the garden.

The first thing he had done when Nora left was move all his clothes and personal items back into his proper bedroom. The second thing he had done was phone his house-keeper to arrange to re-employ her.

The third thing was to retire to his bedroom to stare at the ceiling rather than dial the digits written on the slip of paper that Nora had given him.

Casey's cell.

In fact Nora had given him two things: the number, and hope.

Eventually, he plucked up the courage to type in the number only for it to ring seven times and then click to voicemail.

What he didn't know was that Casey had been in the shower when the phone rang, and in her haste to round her bed and pick up her phone from the dresser, she had tripped, knocking the phone flying into the wall where it had shattered into a thousand pieces. Life sucks sometimes.

He decided that the fact it rang for so long meant she hadn't been there to answer it rather than that she was rejecting the call. So he settled for dialling the number again and when it dropped to voicemail straight away he left a message.

"Hi Princess, it's me. Erm…I know I'm not your favourite person right now, but…look just call me okay? We need to talk. I need to warn you about something and…just…I miss you, honey. Okay…erm…yeah well…beep."

Derek sighed at his complete ineptitude at relationships – or rather the one relationship that counted and tried yet again to analyse Nora's words.

* * *

The next morning, when it was clear that Casey wasn't phoning back, when his nearly-new housekeeper was getting started on erasing the self-destruction of the previous weeks, and when he had eaten a pile of home-made Casey pancakes from the freezer, he got showered and dressed.

Clearly, he couldn't do anything about the Casey situation right now. However, Casey had not been the only family member that Nora had talked to Derek about.

Derek was going to see Edwin.

* * *

**AN: Life, Fanfiction and my broadband supplier having an off-day made this late.**

**Let's hope fanfiction lets you read it.**


	24. Arrival of the Queen of Sheba

"You brother…look like shit." Derek announced when Edwin opened his front door. A bleary-eyed Edwin peered at him.

"So do you. My wife screwed the gardener, what's your excuse?"  
Derek shrugged. "My wife isn't my wife."

"Crap Derek! That's old news! Why do you still look like shit? You fall out with Casey again?"

He stepped to one side and let Derek in; a Derek who was carrying a crate of Coke and bottle of JD. He handed the latter to Edwin, ignoring the crack about Casey.

"That's for you. Promise me when you've downed it, vomited it back up and thrown the bottle away you won't buy a new one."

"How about I skip the first two stages and just throw the bottle away? I'll make do with a couple of cans of the hard stuff." He said pointing to the crate of Coke.

His brother smirked. "Now you see I knew you wouldn't let a _girl_ get to you and ruin your pledge troth."

"For the last time, I didn't sign the pledge. I just can't drink alcohol. It brings me out in hives."

They had reached the living room, which was remarkably clean.

"Dude…what happened in here? I was under the impression from the Step-mom that you were wallowing in filth to waist-level."

Edwin looked uneasy. "I…erm…was."

Derek raised an eyebrow sensing he was on to something juicy. "And?"

"And what?"  
"What made the mess disappear?"

"I had a visitor."  
"A visitor?"

"Hi Derek!" A familiar voice sounded from the kitchen. "Are you hungry? I've just made lasagne.

And there standing in the doorway as though she belonged there was his step-sister…the other one.

"Hi Liz! Fancy seeing you here."  
She smiled. "I just popped in to…erm…drop some food off."

Derek turned to look at Edwin. _Oh this was good!_

"Let me get this straight. Lizzie pops in to _cook_ for you?"

"And clean." Edwin mumbled under his breath.

Derek snorted. "I bet she does."

"Derek brought Jack D." Edwin called to Lizzie.

"Cool! Pour me a glass I'll be through with dinner in a second."

* * *

Lizzie didn't stay after dinner. But the way his two siblings behaved around each other, Derek was sure that at least one of them kinda wished that she had…and when he looked at Edwin after Lizzie left he wasn't so sure that the figure hadn't just risen to two.

"So…Lizzie?" Derek asked sipping his virgin coke, and congratulating himself on another sober night.

Edwin shrugged. "So…Casey?"

Derek snorted. "Nothing's changed Ed. She and I are the same as we've always been."  
"Like fuck you are."

"Okay. We've grown apart."

Edwin snorted coke across his lap, the sofa and the floor as he choked. "Shit!" He exclaimed when he recovered. "Derek don't make jokes like that I'm drinking. You'll kill me." He glanced at the new mess on the floor. "Lizzie's going to kill me too."

"I wasn't cracking a joke. Casey told me she never wants to see me again."  
"Yeah…right. When was this?"

"About a month or so ago."

"When you started flushing your career down the toilet." Edwin stated. "I was _right_! It had nothing to do with Chloe and everything to do with Casey."

"She was my best friend for a very long time, Ed." Said Derek, failing to deny it.

"And your lover."

Derek stared at him. "What?"

"Oh come on D. The whole family knows you were sleeping together."

"I…you _what_?"

"We kept sort of expecting you both to make some announcement. You know sort of 'um by the way…we're dating.' But you never did."

"I don't know, Edwin. Maybe that's because we _weren't_ dating." Derek sighed.

Edwin coughed in disbelief and then when he realised Derek was serious his eyes widened.

"So you're telling me that in the past fifteen years…"  
"…thirteen-ish. We were living at home for three years, remember?"

"…thirteen-ish, you and Casey never…"

Derek coughed with embarrassment. "Not exactly never." He answered. Edwin looked triumphant.

"Ah-ha!" He exclaimed.

"Once, Ed. Once. And then she walked away."  
"Was this a month ago?"  
"No. Three years ago."

Edwin frowned and then he looked enlightened. "I get it. Chloe was a re-bound, right?"

"Re-bound is an ugly term." Derek said, giving in. "But yeah…I guess."

"I like it. Derek Venturi is as big a screw up when it comes to women as I am."

"I can handle women…"

Edwin snorted.

"…It's just Casey." Derek finished.

* * *

It appeared that both men were slowly recovering. Edwin was recovering because Lizzie had propelled herself into his existence, taking over and generally not letting him think. He even went so far as to admit to Derek that "I can sort of handle the loss of Ruth…she's never been easy to deal with…it's the loss of the money from our savings account that I'm sore about. She did it because the pre-nup means she gets very little in the divorce."

"Can you get the money back?"

"No. Fortunately, I knew she was a shopaholic when I married her, so she only had access to a small part of our money. It could have been worse."

"And Lizzie's back…"

"Yeah. Lizzie's back. It seemed she needed someone else to take care of rather than lament over her own broken heart."

"Or maybe she was just glad Ruth was out of the picture."

"Are you trying to super-impose your relationship with Casey over mine and Lizzie's?"

Derek smirked and said nothing.

"That's just…" Edwin spluttered.

"Common sense?" Derek asked.

"Fuck off." Edwin muttered under his breath.

Derek's own recovery was less about getting over it than a renewed hope that _it_ wasn't _over_.

When Edwin decided to go to bed, he offered Derek one of his spare rooms. This penthouse was only one of Edwin's homes. He had a more rural property nearer London, but the penthouse was still sizable and had four bedrooms. Derek took his brother up on the offer, but before he retired however, he had a question.

"Ed. Do you have a PC I can use? I ought to email a couple of people and I don't want to use my blackberry."

"Sure. The laptop's in the study. There's no password on it."

Edwin wandered off to bed and Derek went into the study.

It was an old-fashioned room, all leather and dark wood. Derek liked it, but since he did most of his business on the ice he couldn't really see the point in having a similar room himself. The laptop in question was open on the large desk, and he could tell from the flashing blue light at the front that despite the black screen it was already on.

He pulled up the oversized office chair, noting the rich leather smell it gave off when he sat down and leaned forward. He ran his finger lightly over the mouse pad and sure enough the screen sprang to life.

A tiny icon sat in the middle of a blue-green screen with the tiny word "Sysadm". Derek clicked on the icon, and the screen changed to the standard windows environment…and the mail programme was already at someone's inbox. He moved to the Log Out option automatically, his eyes glancing at the screen and then he froze.

The account currently logged in was Lizzie's, and sitting in her inbox was a _Read_ email from someone called _spacecase_. The subject line was **Reality TV shows suck**. He read the email address and wrote it down, and then he clicked on the email to open it up.

"_Our security policy requires you to re-enter your password after being logged in for a long time. Please do so to continue the required action._"

And with that, the inbox screen disappeared and along with it, Casey's email. Derek cursed.

But at least he had the email address written down.

* * *

Casey knew when Chloe arrived. In fact she was fairly sure half of Canada knew when Chloe arrived. A large limo pulled up at the front of the building, a burly security guard opening the door to revealing an almost bald lapdog…and Chloe. The clamour from the press at the door was deafening.

Trevor who was standing beside her in the foyer groaned.

"I see _Madame_ has arrived." He announced.

"Either that or the Queen of Sheba came to play." Casey smiled.

"What on earth did your brother see in her?" He asked. Casey shrugged.

"You have to know Derek. There will have been a reason, probably something to do with bra size. I'm not really comfortable with the term "brother". We've never seen each other as siblings."

"Oh?" Trevor arched an eyebrow. "I thought you spent a lot of time together. Erm…according to the internet." Casey rolled her eyes at the idea of her history with Derek being on the internet; Or at least, _some_ of her history.

"More like mortal enemies, sometime best friends…" Casey elaborated. Her new dance teacher grinned.

"More than just friends?"

Casey blushed and looked around in case anyone had over heard.

"Don't worry I checked no one was near before I spoke." Trevor reassured her. "Hey I can't blame you duckie. I'd distance myself from the "brother/sister" label too. Of course, anyone with half an eye on the press can tell you he isn't gay. So I guess the rivalry with Queen bitch is more than just a protective sister thing?"

Casey shrugged. "I don't let her impinge on my thoughts more than is necessary. Derek made his choice. We aren't in each other's lives anymore. This whole TV show thing was apparently her idea. I've no idea why she wants me here."  
"I'd have thought that was obvious."  
"What?"

"She wants to show you up in the media. She's pulled Derek's "author" sister out and held her up for people to compare you. She knows she's gorgeous and she thinks that makes her better at things. She wants people to say "Derek should be with Chloe, not Casey.""

"That's ridiculous. Firstly, we aren't together. Secondly, I'd never claim to be more attractive than a supermodel. Thirdly, I'm not the reason Derek dumped Chloe…the fact she lied to him is. Fourthly, the only person that would ever compare us is Chloe."

"Or Derek…until now. Now the press will. And you _should_ compare yourself to her. Hers is a false beauty. It may not have come from the surgeon's knife but it all looks over-blown. You're prettier in many ways."

"What have I let myself in for?" Casey asked with a groan. Trevor grinned.

"I would say it's going to be an interesting few weeks." He paused. "but believe me when I tell you that you won't be on your own. Harriet and I, we like what we've got: a raw and genuine talent. We'll make sure you win because if she wins, there's no justice."

Before Casey replied, the entourage swept into the foyer with Chloe in its midst. Casey watched her former sister-in-law move across the space on her high heels. Anyone else would be teetering but she walked with the grace of a model and as if she was wearing flats rather than five inch heels. Casey made a bet with herself that Chloe had never fallen down the stairs in high school and almost been sued for "blunt force trauma". But, then Derek had never pranked Chloe.

In the blonde woman's arms, the small bald creature stirred and raised its head towards Casey. It was ugly and Casey briefly entertained the idea that the dog was Chloe's Dorian Gray picture, getting uglier as the woman grew beautiful. The thought put a smile on Casey's lips where there shouldn't be one, and though she didn't notice it, the enigmatic smile was picked up by the cameras which were attending Chloe, and the producers would include it when the summary of the week went live on Friday.

She did notice the cameras, however, and the way that they swung round as soon as they realised who the girl standing on the sidelines was. There was a surge of reporters forward which very briefly left Chloe lagging behind…until Derek's former "wife" realised she was losing attention.

"Casey! Darling!" She managed to look sincere and Casey knew that when the video was replayed, the impression given would be that Casey was Chloe's best friend. Casey hated the idea, but she wasn't going to be the one who came over as a bitch on camera…at least not until Chloe started it.

She took a deep breath, forced a broad smile onto her face.

"Hello Chloe! It's been a while!"

* * *

**AN: "The Arrival of the Queen of Sheba" is a piece of music by Handel...you'll most likely recognise it - it gets used often for weddings and other processions.**


	25. Day One

If there was an alternative reality, Casey McDonald was living it. In the two hours since Chloe had arrived, the latter had hugged and kissed her former sister-in-law repeatedly. It was as though she had missed Casey – her "former best friend".

But of course she hadn't missed Casey because this was only the second time that the two women had met. The last time – in Derek's home - Chloe had delivered a lecture to Casey on the multiple talents of Derek Venturi in the sack, his "tricks" and just how dextrous his fingers really were.

If Casey was just Derek's step-sister she might have felt disgusted at the idea of her sister-in-law sharing such intimate information. But after that one occasion where Chloe went into graphic detail, Casey had been left with only one thought. She wasn't sure who Chloe had slept with/was married to, but it definitely wasn't Derek Venturi. Or at least, not the Derek Casey knew.

Casey should know…she'd been there; i.e. in the sack, with Derek Venturi. She knew everything about Derek's "technique" and the one thing she _had_ learnt was he didn't have one. He had simply made love to her and the experience had been everything she had wanted it to be…which had only made leaving even harder.

Time had passed since then and brought them all to this point. Casey put up with Chloe's false friendship and hugs, honestly not caring about the other woman's presence one way or another because Casey was there to win money in the name of Clare's child and nothing else. In her eyes, this competition had nothing to do with Derek. Chloe had other ideas.

After the model's arrival, the cameras were always present. For the next five hours the only time Casey got a proper respite was when she retired to the sanctuary of her own room. And that she only achieved at the very end of the day. The intervening five hours were spent in the communal areas…with Chloe and a group of six other people she had little or nothing in common with.

Chloe was giggly and affectionate towards Casey but the latter soon found out that this was for the benefit of public consumption. When they were out of shot the younger woman made her feelings abundantly clear.

The first instance was when Casey left the "getting to know you" session and slipped into the ladies room. She was exiting the small inner cubicle moments later when Chloe entered. The tall model was wearing a skin-tight dress and tall platform heels, but she walked as though the shoes were part of her: confident and commanding.

"Hi Sis!" She smiled a cold smile. "Found a little hole to crawl into?"

Casey's eyes widened at the abrupt about-turn of Chloe's manner. Less than five minutes ago, Chloe had been sharing nail polish tips with her.

Casey turned her attention to the sink, washing her hands and touching up her make up. Chloe didn't like this. She expected a reaction.

"You think you're better than me. Ha! You're a two-bit author and I'm an international supermodel."

Casey continued her ministrations to her face.

"I don't think I'm better than you, Chloe." She said quietly.

"Really?"

"Of course I don't. Most of the time I don't even think about you at all. I'm here because I'd like a chance to make a difference."

"Actually, you're here because I told them I'd only do it if you did."

Casey frowned. "Why would you do that?"  
Chloe's demeanour turned guarded. "I have my reasons."  
"Well I have my reasons for accepting too. So I guess for the opportunity to carry out my own plan, I should thank you."  
"Plan? What plan?" she suddenly sounded less sure of herself.

Casey smiled. "There is a very sick child who I desperately want to help and this programme will give me the opportunity to do just that."

"If you win."

"If I win. Yes."

"You won't."

"We'll see."

Chloe altered her stance and it became more confident and aggressive again. "You won't win. I have too much influence here for them to allow you to triumph over me."

"Chloe. Why does it matter? I barely know you. I certainly don't know you enough to have done you any damage."

Chloe snorted, but Casey was already on her way to the door. Her hand had just reached the handle when the model spoke.

"He doesn't want you, you know."

Casey froze. She stood facing the door, her back to Chloe.

"Who?"

"Derek. He didn't miss you at all during our marriage. He never mentioned you once. Of course, I kept him busy…mind and _body_. He had no need to think of you."

Casey shivered.

"I'm pretty sure he doesn't want either of us now." She said opening the door and stepping through it before Chloe could react.

* * *

Returning to the communal area was hard because not only was it populated by strangers but also camera crews filming the contestants discussing how they were picked to be on the show…and who they thought was going to win.

Casey wasn't ready to show her face. It wasn't that she was crying or anything, but she knew that the picture it made right now was awkward and strained, and she wasn't about to give Chloe the satisfaction of seeing her look like that on national television.

Instead of staying with the others, she took a door off to one side and started to look for somewhere to collect herself. Finding herself in the library, she began to browse the shelves looking for something to read. She picked a copy of To Kill A Mockingbird in an ancient cover from a shelf on the far side, and then chose a seat nearby.

It felt like forever, but was probably only ten minutes when she heard footsteps.

"Hi." Luan said, creeping into the small nook in the library that Casey had discovered. Casey looked up from her book and sighed.

"Hi".

"Escaping the wicked witch?" Luan asked. Casey smiled.

"Something like that."

Luan stepped closer and perched on a nearby chair. "She's a piece of work."

"Tell me about it. She's trying to make out we are friends, but I've spoken more words to her today than I ever have before."

"I sort of gathered that. What's her game?"

"I don't know. But so far she's being nice as pie to me in front of the camera and whispering snide comments to me when they go."

Luan nodded. "She should be happy with the amount of attention she is getting. The cameras have hardly let her alone."

"They don't follow her into the bathroom." Casey pointed out. She frowned. "You look exhausted, are you okay?"  
Luan rubbed at the bridge of her nose.

"Nothing that a long soak in the bath won't fix."

"When do you finish?"

"Tonight? In about an hour."

Casey looked surprised. "But it's really late, already."

"Tell me about it…anyway. I'm here to tell you about the format of the competition. Are you ready to know?"  
"Sure." Casey said and leaned back. "Go ahead."

"Okay, so…The competition lasts five weeks. Each week the contestants, i.e. _you_ rehearse and train for two performances, one dance and one vocal. In the first week, the launch week, as there are eight performers, the performances are split over two nights with the dance round taking place on the Friday night and the singing round taking place the following night. Both programmes also contain footage of the training and other incidents filmed during the course of the week. The first week two contestants will be eliminated by a public vote.

After that, the show is on just one night per week with the contestants performing their dance routines in the first half of the programme and the singing in the second. Only one contestant will be eliminated per week.

The first four weeks, the performance will be held here in the main ballroom, with a small invited audience – and a small band. The finale will held in the Concert Hall with a full philharmonic orchestra and band."

"Wow!"

"Yes…wow! Look Casey, this thing is big and complicated, and most of all there are going to be a lot of people watching it. I've not known Chloe Venturi very long but I think she has a vendetta against you. So if I were you, I'd watch your back. I mean I will do what ever it takes to stop her, but…"

"It's okay, Luan. I understand. But, I know how to handle her. And she will only win her little battle if I react. If I stay mum and ignore her little games she won't achieve anything."

"Anything is exactly what I think she's capable of."

"Don't worry about it." Casey reassured Luan. "I can cope. Oh…and it's not Venturi…remember. He never really married her."

* * *

Later, when she was alone in her room, Casey pulled out her laptop and began to email Lizzie. Nora had been exaggerating slightly when she described Casey as incommunicado. Casey had internet access, and she would have had cell phone access if she hadn't had the accident with her phone before she left home. In fact, she had already received an email from Lizzie earlier in the day to warn her about Chloe being in the competition. It arrived too late to surprise Casey, but it did reassure her that Lizzie was once again communicating with the real world. After her own heartbreak last year, Lizzie had shut herself off.

"_Dear Liz,_

_How are you doing? Thanks for the email about the competition and Chloe's part in it. I wish I could say that the whole thing came as a shock but after the revelations about their "marriage" I don't think anything will shock me now._

_I know you are worried about what she is up to, and I agree she is up to something. So far the worst it seems to be is to make me look bad in front of the world, yet I can't really decide why I deserve such treatment. Anyway, all I can say is there are people here who have my back, and provided I don't rise to her games, I should be okay._

_How are you doing? You mentioned Ed. Does that mean you've been to see him?_

_How is he doing?_

_Poor mom. I think she's struggling to come to terms with the mess we are all making with our love lives. I think she is blaming the divorces for our inability to find true love."_

Casey paused. She was tempted to type, _Or our inability to act on it when we do_. but she didn't.

"_The fact that it is just life these days is beside the point!_

_They've told us the format for the competition, which basically means I'll be performing five dance routines and five songs. If you've got any suggestions then please, please email me. I think there are categories for some of the rounds, you know…things like Musicals and so on._

_It will be interesting to see what Chloe picks. My support team have nicknamed her the Wicked Witch, which isn't particularly nice, but as she has just cornered me in the bathroom to tell me how much of a loser I am, I'm in the mood to find their nickname funny right now._

_It will be an interesting five weeks. Watch this space…(on Friday 7.30pm!)._

_Can you tell mom that I've broken my phone so it'll be a day or too before I can call her? I'll email her, but you know what she is like about reading her emails._

_Love Casey X"_

Casey hit send and leaned back against the headboard, closing her eyes. She was glad she had email to connect with her family. She needed the reassurance that she knew they would give her over the next few days. Despite her words to Chloe, and to Lizzie, she knew that Derek's ex had the power to not only make her look bad to the press and the public, but also, and more importantly, to hurt her deeply. The initial blow Chloe had sunk had been a low one.

Casey might be annoyed at Derek for using the "freak" word, and despite Nora's reassurance that he wanted to talk to her she might know that they had no future together, but the idea of Derek not thinking about her, the idea that he didn't care – hadn't ever cared- was just too painful.

She looked down at the laptop screen in front of her. Then, sighing at her own stupidity, she typed "Derek Venturi and Casey McDonald" into the google search box and hit enter.

A long list of results came back, and most of them were that warm "already been ready" purple colour rather than the cool "unread" blue. Casey would never admit it, but googling her relationship with Derek was something that happened all too frequently. Some of her favourite photos of the two of them together were ones taken by other people – people who she couldn't ask for copies.

Today, however, as she had a filter on the search for recent entries, one of the top results was still in blue. She read the summary.

**Derek Venturi Wife Meets Step-sister live on TV.**

It turned out to be What's On article for a TV Guide.

_Reality TV Gives Back?_

_Friday sees the launch of the latest reality TV offering to blight our already reality-ed out screens – and yes folks! It's another song and dance offering with half-baked celebrities. This one is done under the guise of "giving back" to charity as it is part of the lead up to the Comic Relief telethon which takes place at the end of next month. The celebrities involved are the usual sorts of have-beens and have-nots, most notably the former Mrs Derek Venturi who whilst an internationally renowned super-model seems intent on fixing her place firmly in everyone's minds as the bigamist wife of the hockey super-god. (Despite the fact that he apparently wants nothing further to do with her)._

_Far be it for this reviewer to second guess anyone – especially someone of Chloe's stature, but surely the goddess should move on already?_

_Other guests are possibly lower down the pecking order, but there is one further person of interest in the group, namely that of Casey McDonald. Miss McDonald might not grab headlines the way that Chloe does, but she is worthy of our attention. The award-winning author is in fact the __**Step-sister**__ of Derek Venturi, and if rumour is to be believed, one of his best friends. So we are left with an ex-wife versus best-friend scenario. I wonder who DV will be voting for?_

_Despite my words above and the hum-drum nature of reality TV shows these days, I for one will be watching on Friday. Will the supermodel reveal hidden talents to wow the crowds and win over her former "husband"? Or will the shy, retiring author steal the show and remind all of us that brains are better than beauty?_

Casey chuckled, forwarded the article to Lizzie, and then clicked on the link to her favourite photos.


	26. Week One

"And one, two, three, four…Pick it up, two, three, four…turn, two, three, four…clap, two three four." Trevor ordered, leaning back on the upright piano because there wasn't a lot of room in the small studio. "Good…and rest."

Casey slumped to the floor, panting. "You know…" she said when there was air in her lungs once again. "I used to think I was fit."

"You are babe. I'm just working you extra hard." Trevor grinned. Casey scowled at him. "I'm doing it, because you are the best, you deserve to be the best and if you aren't crowned the best it won't be because I failed in my job."

"You do realise this is just a television show, don't you?" Casey asked from her ball of self-pity on the floor. "It's not like I'm trying out for Broadway."

Trevor straightened and walked over to the sound system, flicking the off-switch when he arrived.

"Casey, this is about something far more important than Broadway. This is about screwing over that hooker of an ex-sister-in-law of yours."  
"Are we talking about that cold-hearted bitch with the designer pooch?" A voice called from the door. Casey looked round to see Harriet coming in, lugging a large briefcase full of music scores. Trevor scuttled over to help her in.

"Yeah. Why?" He asked following her to the piano.

"You realise she's the reason we're in this room rather than our proper rehearsal room, don't you?"

Casey frowned. "Our room got flooded from a burst pipe. That's not something that Chloe could arrange…is it?" As she spoke the sentence, she realised that it was exactly what Chloe could arrange. But Harriet shook her head.

"Oh no. The leak and flooding were genuine. Except the person who was really allocated that rehearsal room was Chloe, not Casey."

Trevor gasped dramatically, placing four delicately manicured fingers to his lips in horror. "She never pulled the ol' switch-aroony on us?"

Harriet nodded. "I overheard her discussing it on the back stairs with one of her cronies. We need to watch her. She's going to play dirty."

Casey sighed and buried her head in her lap. "Why? Why did I say yes to this madness?"

Harriet sat down at the piano. "Because you have a good heart. And you deserve to be here. Now stop fretting about it, and let's talk music."

"Music?" Casey queried. Trevor nodded.

"We need to work out what your repertoire is going to be. We have the list of categories now. It's time to plan out what we are going to perform."

* * *

Derek returned to his own apartment the morning after his impromptu dinner with his brother and his step-sister. By the time he arrived mid-morning, his housekeeper had pulled out all the stops and the house was back to normal. She had even placed flowers in Casey's vase, and Derek decided maybe it was time to give her a raise. Not everyone would have put up with his crap over the past few weeks and not only come back to work but cleaned up so well. He announced her new pay just as she was leaving for the day. She had smiled warmly at him.

"Is she coming back?" Rita had asked when he accepted her thanks.

"No." Derek said calmly. "No. She's gone for good."

The housekeeper looked sad. "Well now that is a shame. I liked her. Sure she got under my feet at times but she always had your best interests at heart."

Derek frowned. Chloe had been his wife, and he guessed at some point he must have been…_fond_?...of her. But, even he wouldn't have described her as having his best interests at heart. Derek knew for a fact the only person whose interests Chloe had at heart was her own.

"Hmmm…" He said non-committedly thinking that his housekeeper was pushing the gratitude for her pay rise a little too much.

Rita continued. "I mean, I know she was the devil for pointing out the places that the agency girl kept missing when she was dusting, and I know I used to grouch a bit about her popping up all the time cooking in the kitchen and filling up your freezer but…"

"Oh! You mean _Casey_!" Derek said, pleased that he was enlightened and that his housekeeper wasn't kow-towing to him.

She frowned. "Who did you think I meant? Not that waste of space _wife_ of yours! Of course I meant Miss McDonald! Did you know she often asked me to join her for lunch in the kitchen. Her Chicken Casserole is just…"

"Yes. It is." He agreed.

"So she isn't coming back?" Rita asked.

Derek sighed. "I don't know. She's…annoyed with me right now."

"You'll regret it if you don't patch things up with her. You were a fool to let her get away. You should have married her while you had the chance."

"You do realise this is my step-sister we're talking about?"

"Yes."

" People don't normally marry their step-sisters."

Rita shrugged. "Didn't do my parents any harm."

* * *

"Christina Aguilera?" Casey said deadpan.

"Yup."

"That's the first theme?"

Harriet nodded. "Themed rounds worked for Pop Idol so they are doing it with this. The first one is Christina. Some rounds will be more general. For example, next week is Musicals."

Trevor was reading the back of the CD case. "Do you know much of her work?"

Casey shook her head. "The odd track."

"Do you?" Harriet glanced over at Trevor. He nodded.

"Oo. I love me a bit of Xtina." He grinned and then frowned. "Although trying to keep things understated is going to be difficult. She has a certain style about her. Shy retiring violet she isn't."

"Do we want shy retiring violet?" Casey asked.

"Oh yes duckie! We're going to sneak you into this competition by the back door. I'm aiming to make you look virginal up against Miss Media Whore." He looked at Harriet. "You know Chloe's going to go in there all guns blazing, don't you?"

She nodded. "I'll try and find out which track she's going to use. Meanwhile, you need to come up with music for a dance routine and I need to come up with a song. Something on the quiet side, but good technically. After all, Casey has to shine enough that they can't evict her, but we don't want her to overshadow Chloe…this week at least. Hmm…How about 'Beautiful'?"

"_Please_ that's overdone!" Trevor announced with disgust. "I need to think about this. Why don't you take over here…do some warm up exercises or something?"

"Do some _what_?" Harriet looked disgusted. "You do realise _I_ at least plan our sessions don't you?"

"Of course darling, but I'm sure your plans include warm ups!" Trevor grinned. Harriet sighed.

"Go! Have inspiration! Just come back and wow us with your music choice. And if you get chance, find out what Queen B is using. I'm not putting Casey up against that gobshite singing the same song."

"'Gobshite?' Harriet…darling! Cheltenham ladies do not use words like that." Trevor teased as he made for the door, winking at Casey. "You look scared to death, ducks. Relax! We've got you covered."

* * *

Casey went to bed that night thoroughly exhausted. Both Trevor and Harriet had worked her into the ground, but strangely it wasn't that which wore her out. Instead, it was the constant looking over her shoulder for the next offensive from Chloe. She sighed as she cleaned her teeth, gazing into the bathroom mirror at the woman she had become. She was pleased that she looked pretty much as she had in her early twenties, but she could see the beginnings of lines encircling her eyes. It was a reminder about her rapid progress through life – and just how much of her life had passed, most of it beside Derek.

She wondered for a moment where Derek was and if he was okay. She realised that in the dubious excitement of moving in, she had yet to talk to Nora and see if there was further news. She dried her mouth and moved into the bedroom switching off the bathroom light. Her laptop lay on the bed blinking and she decided to draft an email to her mother. Casey climbed onto the bed. Her nightshirt was warm enough to keep off the chill, so she sat above the covers and wiped a finger over the keypad. She refreshed the screen and noted a new email from Liz.

"_Hi Casey,_

_Thanks for the update, and sorry I've been so awful about keeping in touch, it's been a bad few months, but I finally think I'm coming out the other side of it._

_I saw the link to the article – how funny! I'm going to show it to Ed next time I see him. _

_He's doing okay, although obviously not brilliant. The desire to weep openly appears to have receded (which can only be a good thing). He seems to be concentrating on revenge and the more practical aspects of what he has lost – such as the money. Derek came to see him a couple of nights ago to shake Edwin out of the funk he's in – and himself. By the time I left they both seemed to be back on track to being normal. Derek certainly didn't look like the mess Mom described to me._

_It was strange seeing Derek without you and I'm not entirely sure why. After all, you went without seeing each other for two years, but I guess I was AWOL for most of that. Besides, those two years were a blip compared to the fifteen years that you and Derek have been in each other's lives._

_Case, I think you should contact him. I'm not going to give my reasons for that, but…I just think you will both lose something precious if you don't suck it up and accept his apology. Please?_

_Anyway, I passed the message on to mom. She says she'll try to check her email more…oh and to tell you to "_talk to Derek_". _

_And yes, before you ask, we are all ganging up on you._

_Good luck with the competition. Keep me up-to-date on the gossip. I can't imagine it's particularly nice having a camera in your face all the time. Just keep thinking about the end goal and all the good that money will do._

_And Casey? _PHONE DEREK!_"_

"Stuck record, much!" Casey complained, closing out of the email. In the Inbox was another email from Lizzie which must have arrived while she was reading the previous one.

"_As for suggestions for music, do you and Chloe have to do a duet? Only you could sing that one from the musical 'Chess' – you know… "I know him so well". *grins evilly*"_

Casey snapped her laptop shut in disgust. Yes, she remembered the duet. It was about two women fighting over the same man.

* * *

It was Thursday and it was Derek's turn to stare at a laptop screen. He also had an email program open and he had gone so far as to start typing the content of a new email.

_Dear Casey,_

_Hi…how are you?_

He deleted that one. It was too "brotherly".

_Hey Spacecase,_

_Quit being pissed and call me._

He deleted that one. It was too "insincere".

_Casey,_

_You got the wrong idea. I didn't mean what I said. Or rather I did it's just that…_

He sighed. He had possessed Casey's email address for almost a week now and every day, about three times a day he sat down to try and compose his email to her. He knew he had to get it right because this might be the last time that he had chance to contact her. If he got this wrong, she would delete _this_ account the way that she had deleted the others.

He gave it one last try before deleting that message too and taking himself off to bed.

Derek wondered how Casey was doing stuck in that house with his ex-wife. Was it the complete disaster that it promised to be? Did Chloe cause trouble for Casey, make life miserable for her – or did they get on well and spend all their evenings sitting together swapping Derek Venturi horror stories on camera?

For Casey's sake, he sort of hoped it was the latter. Casey didn't deserve to be played with like a kitten playing with a ball of wool. Casey had nothing to do with the break up of his marriage to Chloe that was all Chloe's doing.

But as he thought it, Derek realised, that he was lying to himself. Casey had everything to do with the fact that he had split up with Chloe. If it hadn't been for Casey, Derek wouldn't have even _married_ Chloe.

His step-sister had _so much_ to answer for!

* * *

**AN: Just in case you don't know the song, it's about a mistress and a wife - although I think Chloe would be better as the mistress.**

"I know him so well" - You Tube [slash] watch?v=z2IkLGFiKx0 (Chloe would be the blonde!)


	27. Launch Night

The door to Casey's room flew open and Luan dashed in. Today she was dressed in a smart red pant-suit.

"I've seen it!" She shouted.

"Seen what?" asked Casey from the bathroom, her voice muffled by whatever she was doing in there.

"Her outfit." Luan said approaching the bathroom door curiously.

"Oh." Casey sounded underwhelmed.

Luan looked peeved. "You know, you really aren't entering into the spirit of this competition are you?"

Casey emerged from the bathroom, her hair a matted mess and her scalp red raw from scrubbing.

"What the hell happened to you?" Luan gasped.

"Chloe." Casey said simply. "She put honey in my shampoo bottle and I was over-tired and forgot to check that my shampoo was okay. I should have known. I wondered why it reminded me of Derek."

Luan looked confused. Casey sighed.

"Derek used to pull the same trick on me every six months or so. Just when I let my guard down he would do it again."

"Have you tried washing it out?"

"Yes but water alone won't do it. I need proper shampoo and she's taken all mine."

There was a knock at Casey's door.

"I'll get it." Luan said, crossing to the door.

"My God! Duckie! What happened?" Trevor entered the room carrying a dress bag, his eyes bugging out of their sockets. Harriet followed hard on his heels.

"Chloe." Luan stated on Casey's behalf. "Honey in her shampoo bottle."

"Wait right there!" Harriet announced and disappeared out of the room. She re-entered a few minutes later with a large bottle of expensive-looking shampoo. Trevor snatched it from her gratefully and propelled Casey back into the bathroom.

"Into the shower with you, ducks." He said. "That's it." He added as she began to strip. And then he started removing his own clothes so that he could climb in with her. Casey began to protest.

"Casey. Believe me, sweetie, you could never rock my boat girl, you don't have the right equipment. It's going to be easier for me to get this gunk out of your hair if I'm in here with you. Okay?"

A naked, vulnerable looking Casey nodded.

There was another knock at the main door to Casey's room. Harriet opened it.

"Hi!" Said a squat man in scruffy jeans. "I'm Louis. Camera 4? Is it convenient for us to record Casey now?"

"NO!" Four people hollered.

* * *

There was an advantage to having a tiny rehearsal room, Casey decided. It was that there wasn't enough room for her to rehearse with the cameras present. So far she had got away all week with the minimal amount of time in front of the camera, just a couple of minutes when they filmed breakfast.

Unfortunately, the director had noticed that she was absent from most of the shots and was insisting that they get some shots of her today.

Fortunately, he agreed to wait until she was out of the shower.

Unfortunately, it meant that certain details about their campaign would need to be discussed _before_ Casey came out of the shower and into the range of the cameras.

As soon as her hair was clean again and her body clothed, her three friends muscled their way into the tiny bathroom and shut the door.

Trevor sat down beside Casey on the side of the bath. Luan hauled herself up onto the counter top and Harriet, flashing them all an evil look, gingerly put the toilet seat down and sat on it.

"I've brought the dress…" Trevor started but Luan cut across him.

"I've seen the dress!" she squealed.

"You can't have, I've had it covered up since I finished it."

"No not Casey's…Chloe's."

"You've seen Chloe's dress?" Trevor asked standing up in excitement. Harriet pulled him back down again.

"Sit down! There isn't room for your exuberance in here." She reprimanded him.

Trevor flashed her the kind of look only a pissed drama queen can. Casey sighed audibly, and they both mouthed an apology at her.

"Do you want to hear about her dress or not?" Luan asked.

"What difference does it make?" Casey asked.

"A lot." Trevor said. "Believe me, what you wear is as important as what you dance or sing to, and they are all more important than how well you perform."

"This is for charity. This is for charity." Casey recited under her breath.

"Anyway. I only got to see the dress for the song, but apparently the dance dress is the same colour so I guess we can all see what she is up to."

Trevor frowned. "And?"

"And what?" Luan looked confused.

"What colour _is_ it?"

"Oh! Red. Tight, asymmetrically cut so that it sits as a mini-skirt on her right hip and ankle length on her left foot. It's made of shiny lycra with a low cleavage and a netted back. It doesn't cover a lot."

"Wow!" Harriet exclaimed.

"I know. I mean, you should see the damn thing! And rumour has it, the song is dirty."

Harriet shook her head. "No. She'll choose something family friendly."

"Not _dirty_." Trevor snorted. "Diirty! As in Christina Aguilera's song 'Diirty'. Although I have to say, that's hardly Disney."

Luan shrugged. "That's what I heard."

"Did you find anything out about the dance number?" Trevor leaned forward.

"Yes actually. She's dancing to 'Ain't No Other Man.'"

He frowned. "Hmmm. So she's doing two pop pieces in the same segment." He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "The dance music doesn't require much. If it's anything like the video it will be all skirt swishing and strutting. Strange choice." He looked thoughtful.

The others waited for a while. "And?" Luan said eventually.

"And?" Trevor asked distractedly.

"And what's Casey's dress like?"

"Oo! Hang on I'll get it."

He flounced out of the bathroom and returned a moment later carrying the dress bag. He hung it up on the back of the door and zipped it down to reveal two dresses: one black, one white.

The white one was at the front. It was sleeveless and cut from plain white cotton as though made from sheets. The shape was basic and knee length. It wasn't lined and it had nothing in the way of embellishments on it.

"It's…plain." Casey said underwhelmed.

"Exactly!" Trevor said. "Don't wear any jewellery, no make up and leave your hair down…oh! And dance barefoot."

"Trev? Are you feeling okay?" Harriet asked.

"Hunky-dory." He replied.

She pulled a face. "Okay. Hit me with the brilliance of your plan."

He smiled. "The Wicked Witch is glamming up…yes?" They all nodded. "So we're glamming down. Casey will look simple beside Chloe."

"Thanks." Said Casey wryly.

Trevor patted the back of her hand. "Duckie. I meant that in a good way. Chloe will look manufactured, false, like a gilded lily. In contrast, you will be simplistic, uncomplicated, raw unadulterated talent."

"The public don't think like that Trevor." Casey said.

"No. I know. Chloe will still win this round, because she'll win the public vote, but you will stay in the competition because the judges will _love_ you."

Luan jerked her head towards the other dress in the bag. "And the little black number."  
Trevor smiled. "Casey's song is a song about grief. So I've given her a plain black dress. Although it's actually cut to be a lot more flattering than the white dress." He glanced at Casey. "Do you know the song words now?" He asked.

Casey nodded and then seeing Luan's enquiring look she went on.

"I didn't know the song before this week. I keep messing up."

That wasn't strictly true. Casey knew the words to the song perfectly, and she also knew the words she was _planning_ on singing tonight.

Five hours later (and most of them in front of the camera) Casey was dressed in her simple white dress, her hair artfully dressed to make it look like she hadn't brushed it in a week, her make-up light and invisible, and her feet bare. She was waiting in a side room with the other contestants, and currently she was watching Chloe give an on-camera interview about her song choices.

"Oh they are both incredibly personal songs to me." Casey heard Chloe say with an artful little smile. "Christina wrote songs that really speak to me right now."

The interviewer raised an eyebrow. "So your choice of 'Ain't No Other Man' would be a message to someone special?"

"I couldn't possibly say."

Casey snorted. _Hmm. I bet she does though._

Chloe sighed dramatically. "The price of having marital problems when you are in the public eye is that everyone knows about it."

_Marital problems? The fact that you aren't even married would be a massive problem, I guess._

"So maybe a message for a certainly hockey player?" The interviewer led. Chloe gave an enigmatic smile. "And 'Diirty'?"

Chloe chuckled. "Ah…yes…well…erm…that brings back memories of a _special_ night in the parking lot of a rink…I'm saying no more."

Casey's eyes widened and she elbowed Luan. "Did she just imply that she and Derek had sex in the rink parking lot?"

"Sounded like it to me."

"Pah! I'll believe that when I see it!" Casey exclained, wincing slightly at the thought.

"Oh?"

"Derek has a no PDA rule. He won't even hold hands in public. I doubt that he would do anything else."

"Maybe she converted him."

Casey sighed and her shoulders slumped. "Maybe."

* * *

"Hey Ed! Where's the popcorn?" Derek hollered through to the kitchen from his spot on the armchair.

"Where you left it." Edwin replied, re-entering the living room with a tray of drinks in his hand. He handed one to Nora, one to George and then made his way around the room making sure that they all had drinks.

The whole family was there - even Marti who had made it back from college for the weekend and Robbie who wanted to see his sister on TV rather than spend his evening on social networking sites.

Lizzie remembered another time when they had all sat around to watch Casey on TV. Of course, that time, Derek had been with her. Lizzie glanced across at her step-brother. He looked nervous and with a sudden understanding of a man who she had always found an enigma, she realised he was nervous for Casey rather than himself and effect this show would have on his own public profile. She stood up.

"It's okay." She announced. "I'll get the popcorn."

Derek stared at her in surprise. She raised an eyebrow challenging him.

"As a one-off, of course."

He grinned his genuine thanks.

"Quick Lizzie! It's starting!" Nora called a few minutes later. Lizzie dashed back in and threw herself into the tiny space beside Edwin on the sofa. Neither of them commented when he stretched an arm around the back of the sofa behind her.

"I'm so nervous for her!" She said. Nora concurred. Marti giggled.

"Come on! This is Casey! She's used to making an exhibition of herself."

"Says the girl who got up on stage at _my_ graduation in purple heels and fishnet stockings." Edwin interjected. "Lassiter had to be taken away hyperventilating."

"Sssh!" Nora hissed.

"_Welcome to Stars and Hearts, the show where the stars show their hearts and give back! A week ago we locked eight of Canada's brightest stars away in a Gothic mansion to torture them into performing for you tonight. _

_And _boy!_ Was it eventful! Without further ado, let's meet the stars and find out what they got up to."_

"Okay." Derek said, as they watched some link piece where the stars were announced. "That announcer is irritating."

"Ssh! There she is!"

"_Casey McDonald: Step-sister to Derek Venturi, who also happens to be an award-winning author…"_

"Ouch!" Lizzie exclaimed. "She won't like that!"

"Chloe will have written it." Derek muttered.

"_Casey claims to have danced regularly in her youth, and to be able to sing a bit. I guess tonight we'll find out how true that is."_

"In her _youth_? Yup!" Nora said. "Chloe wrote that."

"Poor Casey." Marti said quietly.

Derek snorted. "Casey can handle Chloe. I'm looking forward to the fight actually."

"Derek." George spoke up. "Don't you think it's a little inappropriate to cheer on a bitch-fight between your ex-wife and your sister?"

"George!" Nora admonished.

Derek ignored his step-mother. "Chloe is not my ex-wife, and Casey is not my sister. And you're probably right, it is inappropriate. Jeez Dad, you've known me 30-odd years. Everything I do is inappropriate."

And so it began.

* * *

**AN: Between the two programmes the performances are probably going to be quite long, so apologies for leaving it there tonight. At least you've had two updates in one day.**

**I'm not going to include huge sections of songs in this story, but I will list the songs at the end of the chapters, and on occasion there might be the odd line mentioned to show why that song is important.**

**Unfortunately, the nature of the beast means that some of this is left to your imagination. However, when I chose the songs, I went via YouTube and tried to pick things where the video looked like Casey/Chloe so that you don't have to squint too much.**


	28. Christina Aguilera

The stage was black apart from a single white spot. A lone figure stood head bowed in the centre, hair hanging down hiding her face. The pale dress in the pale light washed all warmth from the scene. Then the piano started.

"Young girl don't cry, I'll be right here when your world starts to fall…"

Casey drew a wide circle on the ground in front of her with her bare right toe and leaned her head to rotate in the same direction before lightly stepping back one step and repeating the circle with her left big toe, this time taking her left arm out in a wide sweeping gesture. She copied the movement with her right arm and stepped into her following movements lightly and with confidence.

It was simple, unadorned, textbook ballet. Her arms formed the classic positions with faultless accuracy and her legs stretched and moved with grace and beauty across the stage. Each step was more complicated than the last, yet the movement seemed effortless, her face serene and contemplative.

"Noone ever wants or bothers to explain… Of the heartache life can bring and what it means…" and then she wasn't alone on the stage anymore.

Behind Casey, dressed in plain black, stepped Trevor, no longer the brash Brit, but instead the graceful male dancer ready to lift his charge as required while Casey took the dance to a new level for the chorus.

"When there's no one else, look inside yourself, like your oldest friend just trust the voice within…"

Like the rest of their family, Derek watched Casey, but he doubted that their minds were as affected as his. _He _could remember holding her like that, lifting her dancer's form. He could remember the lightness of her breath as she danced, the way her perfume warmed and clouded his senses. She was beautiful, he already knew that. She was graceful, he knew that too. But there was so much more to Casey.

Once she had been his…and he had let her go. He should have fought harder, longer.

He should have…his mind wandered…

And then as quickly as it had begun, the dance was over.

The audience on the screen erupted with cheers and seconds later so did the shocked audience at home.

All except Derek.

"Are you okay, Smerek?" Marti asked.

"Erm…bathroom." He said and dashed from the room.

In the dubious sanctuary of the bathroom he splashed water in his face and struggled to pull his mind back from the edge. Images of the last fifteen years were racing through his brain like street racers bent on destruction. He wasn't sure which one was going to cause the pile up but he knew it was going to happen.

_Casey lying beside him in bed giggling. "We should have done that sooner."_

"_I agree. It was far healthier than the whole pink and blue sticky tape business."_

"_Oh come on! That tape was an act of genius, Derek. It kept us from fighting that night."  
"Really? Maybe the only thing it kept us from doing was this. Hell that would have been a shock for the 'rents when they got home."_

"_You're kidding me?" She had sat up in surprise then, the sheets falling from her naked body and he groaned audibly. She laughed and covered herself up. "Sorry."_

"_For what?" He smirked and grabbed her pulling her back down into the bed._

"Fuck!" Derek muttered hanging over the sink. "Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!"

He missed the judges' reaction.

"They said she was technically flawless!" Nora greeted him like a small child meeting Father Christmas when he returned. "They said it was emotional but poised and one of them even used the word "exquisite"."

Derek smiled, but Lizzie saw the sadness had returned to his eyes.

They sat and watched Chloe's dance. Trevor had been right about the contrast. Where Casey had been virginal white, Chloe was in a red fur-trimmed satin robe which she removed half way through 'Ain't No Other Man' to reveal a red satin corset with matching garter. Lizzie snorted something about one-upping even Christina and Robbie laughed.

The performance was okay…good even, but like Trevor had predicted it was mainly skirt-swishing and strutting. The audience loved it but the judges thought it was only okay. Unfortunately, the audience vote counted.

Derek had sighed with frustration when the film from earlier in the week revealed that Chloe had stated she particularly chose the song because of Derek.

When _was_ she going to get the message?

* * *

"We should phone Casey!" Nora announced.

George shook his head. "We can't. She'll still be doing stuff for the cameras."

"Besides, Mom, her phone is broken, remember?" Lizzie pointed out.  
"Broken?" Derek queried.

Lizzie nodded. "Casey had a Klutzilla moment with it the night before she went on the show. Apparently, it ended up in a thousand pieces."

Derek went cold.

The night before she went to join the show would be the night that he tried to call her. Why did he get the feeling that the Klutzilla moment was all his fault? Did she pick up the phone to answer it and then when she saw who it was…?

"I should go." He said quickly before he totally lost it in front of his family.

"I thought you were going to stay." Nora said, surprised.

"I've got early morning practice." He lied. He had a practice tomorrow but it wasn't early.

Nora shrugged. "Okay. Will we see you tomorrow night for part two?"

He froze on his way to the door. "Erm…I think I have plans tomorrow night." Another lie.

"Plans?" This time it was George. "Derek? Are you okay?"

"No. Not really." He said and pushed his way to the door.

* * *

He hadn't been home more than ten minutes when his doorbell rang. Derek cursed loudly and crossed the floor to open it.

"Hi Smerek!" Marti skipped into the foyer looking like the six year old she used to be and not the college girl she was.

"Smarts, now is not a good time, okay?"

She smiled. "I know it isn't. You want to wallow in self-pity and disgust." His little sister started to remove her coat. "Mind if I join you?"

He groaned and led the way into the den.

"You know…" She said half an hour later as they were sprawled on the sofas, surrounded by potato chips and snacks. "…Nora never really did give up that healthy eating thing, did she? I mean, she gives good dinners but…sometimes I just want me some starch and refined sugar."

Derek rolled his eyes. "You channelling fifteen year old Derek, there kid?"  
Marti smirked. "Nah. I don't have a Casey."

Her brother snorted. "Neither do I."

"What was tonight all about?" Marti asked softly.

"Casey's finest hour?"

"but not yours."

"I think my finest hours are all behind me." He said honestly. "All I do right now is screw things up."

"There is no such thing as screwing up when it's family, D."

"I don't see Casey as family, Marti."

"Why?"

"You know why."

Marti shrugged. "So Nora doesn't think of Dad as family?"

"That's different."

"No it isn't. Loving someone doesn't mean they can't be family too. In fact, I'm pretty sure you're supposed to love your family."

"Marti…"

"Derek, do us all a favour, okay? Stop it with the emo shit and be friends with Casey again. The fam and I? We don't care whether you get your act together and date or not, we want you to just talk to your best friend Derek. You're the only people who can handle each other."

"I tried talking to her. I tried phoning her."

"And?"

"And it was the night before she joined the programme. The night of her Klutzilla incident with her phone." He said pointedly.

"Oh!" Marti frowned. "You think she destroyed the phone because you tried to call?"

"Maybe."

Marti sighed. "Derek. Does that sound like Casey? No. Of course not. If Casey had a problem with you trying to phone her she'd answer and tell you in no uncertain terms. Smashing a cell phone because someone called is more your sort of thing."

"So how did she break her phone?"

Marti frowned. "I don't know."

* * *

It appeared his sister was planning on staying the night. She produced a bag from the trunk of her car and asked where she was sleeping, and because she was the second most important person in the world, he showed her to the spare room rather than throw her out. (I.e. the real spare room which had never been his bedroom, and which had no trace in it of either of his paramours.)

"ooo!" Smarti giggled. "This is amazing! How come you never gave me this room before?"

"Dad and Nora usually stay here when you all come to visit." He answered and pointed across the landing. "I'm just across the hall if you need me."

"I thought your bedroom was the other end of the house."  
"Only while Chloe was around. The one opposite was originally my bedroom, and I prefer it. It was the reason I bought the house. Because of the flowers." Marti looked confused. Derek smiled sadly. "Casey liked the flowers."

Marti went with Derek to his practice the following day. It was nice to have the support and he played well for once, prompting the coach to tell him that if he played like that at the mid-week practice he would consider picking him for the game the following Saturday. Despite himself and the situation with Casey, Derek grinned broadly all the way home.

"See." Marti said, looking over at him across the car. "Positive mental attitude. Now if you can only be that way with my sister…"

"She's not your sister, Marti."

"She can be my sister without being yours Derek. You think too much!"

Derek stared at her and then laughed. "Yup. Definitely channelling teenaged Derek."

They grinned companionably at each other.

"Which means you must be hungry…lunch?"

Marti nodded enthusiastically.

"Good. I've found a decent burger place where they find me a corner the paps don't know about. Let's go."

* * *

A parcel arrived for Casey on Saturday. It was from Angela and came with a note.

"_New cell phone as requested. They transferred your old SIM across so the number is the same and you haven't lost your address books and stuff. Try not to do that again. They had a job getting the SIM out of the wreckage without damaging it. They told me to tell you the call you missed because it broke was from Derek. Take that as a good sign and call him back. PLEASE!_

_Good luck tonight. Any chance of a heads up as to what you are wearing/going to sing?_

_Ange X"_

Casey smiled and started to open the package. Angela was good to her. Too good. She didn't feel she deserve her as an agent, let alone as such a good friend. She was slightly unnerved by the news that it had been Derek trying to phone her. She wondered how she would have reacted if he had succeeded in reaching her – and what he would have said.

The new phone was a dark purple blackberry and looked really stylish. Her old phone had been very old – old enough to have pictures of Derek pre-Chloe and fortunately it appeared they had remained on her SIM card rather than the phone memory. She flicked through them sadly. It was getting harder not easier to be away from him.

The four months they had spent apart before they slept together was nothing on what it had been like to be apart for two years, and the pain of _that _separation was nothing to how she felt now after just a few weeks distance– even though it had been Casey that walked away. She wasn't handling it well. Her writing was suffering with her pen automatically describing characters that looked and sounded like Derek.

And when she was rehearsing with Trevor and Harriet her mind wandered constantly.

It had been particularly bad rehearsing with Harriet. The English lady had picked Casey's song and she had accidentally picked a song which resonated on so many levels. The first few times Casey found herself getting so into the song she absent-mindedly changed the words when she sang. Now she did it deliberately.

"You did it again." Harriet admonished. "It's "since _you've_ been away" not "since _I've_ been away"."

"Sorry. I just get…"

"Wrapped up in the song?"

Casey nodded.

"Do the lyrics have meaning for you?" Harriet asked.

"Yes."

"Fine!" Harriet announced. "Sing them the way you want to. It's all about your interpretation anyway."

Casey's face cleared. "Really?" she looked pleased. This was exactly what she had wanted: to be able to sing _her_ words.

Harriet bit back a question. They weren't alone. The cameras were recording the rehearsal which had been moved to a bigger rehearsal room so that there was room.

"I think you get the grief across well." Harriet said. "And I think that Trevor's costume choice will work."

"Grief? I've always thought it was more about "loss" than just grief." Casey said fiddling with the necklace about her neck. She glanced over at the cameras and decided to change the subject. "How was my tuning on that sticky bit?"

Harriet followed Casey up to her bedroom after the filming.

"Can we talk?" She asked quietly, not wanting anyone to know that she was there. Casey nodded and jerked her head towards the room. They entered and Harriet went to sit at the little chair provided at the vanity table, making sure the door was shut.

"Casey, are you okay singing this song? Only it seems incredibly personal to you, and I'm worried you won't be able to go through with it."

Casey sat down hard on the edge of her bed.

"It's not an easy song to sing, but…" She paused. "It's cathartic."

"I don't understand."

"Derek and I aren't talking to each other. We had a massive argument several weeks ago and I told him I never wanted to see him again."

"But you regret it?" Harriet said, suddenly understanding more because she knew the lyrics. Casey nodded.

"I regret it. My family think I should try calling him but I'm scared to. What if I hurt him so much that he won't take me back…as a friend." She added quickly, aware that Harriet didn't know about the romantic aspect of their relationship.

"Does he talk to your family?"

"Sometimes."

"Do you think that they would advise you to speak to him if they thought it would make the situation worse than it is?"

"I know, I know. It's just…God! It's all so complicated."

Harriet smiled. "You know, maybe this song business is a good thing then. Maybe you can get the message across in the words of the song."

Casey smiled ruefully. "Maybe."

* * *

"I've been meaning to ask you." Marti started, as they sat waiting for the programme to begin. "That comment Chloe made about the parking lot…"

Derek spluttered his beer across his lap.

"Absolutely _nothing_ to do with me!" He insisted. "Seriously, if I cared at all about her, we'd be arguing about that because clearly she has been with some other hockey guy – probably someone else on the team. I wonder if it was Nigel? Nah! He's definitely gay."

"You're not into outdoor sex?" Marti asked casually. Derek stared at his little sister in horror.

"Oh come on Derek, I'm not six anymore." She laughed.

"Smarts, I wouldn't discuss something like that with Sam and he's the same age as me."

"You didn't answer the question."

"I know I didn't." he said and sipped his beer. "I wouldn't do that…with Chloe."

"Why not?"

Derek fidgeted. "She's a screamer."

"Oh…" Marti said and then when the realisation kicked in. "Ew! TMI!"

Derek laughed. "You asked!"

"Let me get this straight. She's getting up in front of the world and singing a song which she has told the world is about a sex session with _you_ and you've never had sex in a parking lot with her?"

"Yup!"

"Classic!" Marti said, and swigged her own beer. "Which begs the question…" She smirked at him. "Who would you do outdoor sex for?"

"Smarti…"

Before he could say anything, Chloe broke dramatically onto the stage dressed in a black and red corset and started to gyrate wildly whilst belting out the words to Dirrty.

"Holy mother of Bart!" Marti exclaimed. "Where's the bleach?"

Even Derek sat there with his mouth open.

He had to hand it to Chloe. She certainly appealed to the male section of the population with her performance. It barely conformed to the television watchdog's guidelines for viewing at that time of night.

The trouble for Chloe was it didn't appeal to Derek. It might have done once, but he had outgrown his teenage hormones a long time ago, and the presence of a certain step-sister in his life – and his bed- had changed his viewpoint on a lot of things. The hold Chloe had had over him had been fleeting and temporary. And it was over.

When the action on stage was also over, there was silence in Derek's den.

"Nice." Derek said, his tone belying his words.

"Ahem…if you like that sort of thing." Marti agreed. They glanced at each other and giggled. "Fuck Derek! You don't half pick 'em!" she said, using a phrase she had picked up from one of her friends at university.

"If I ever look at someone like that again" Derek said. "Shoot me."

They listened to the judges' comments which were largely complimentary (they were nearly all male) although they did call her out on her tuning, and Chloe forgot the words at one point. Chloe was going to win again tonight – before Casey even got on the stage.

"Casey'll be up soon." Marti commented.

"Hmm." Derek said all non-committal.

"I didn't recognise the song from the small snippets during rehearsals."

"No. me neither."

"Nervous?"

"Yes."  
"For you or for her?"  
He smiled. "Both."

There was no razzmatazz to Casey's performance. The piano played, she appeared – dressed simply in black- and she sang. It was striking, it was poignant…it was perfect.

"_Seems like it was yesterday when I saw your face. You told me how proud you were but I walked away."_ She sang and crossed to a strategically placed bench where she could sit. _"I would hold you in my arms. I would take the pain away. Thank you for all you've done. Forgive all your mistakes. There's nothing I wouldn't do to hear your voice again. Sometimes I want to call you but I know you won't be there. I'm sorry for blaming you for everything I just couldn't do. And I've hurt myself by blaming you."_

Casey sang on. _"Would you tell me I was wrong? Would you help me understand? Are you looking out for me? Are you proud of who I am? There's nothing I wouldn't do to have just one more chance to look into your eyes and see you looking back."_

Marti gasped and grabbed Derek's hand. He glanced at her.

"What?"

"Derek. Listen to the words. I know this song, she's changed the words. It's about you."

"_I'm sorry for blaming you for everything I just couldn't do. And I've hurt myself. If I had just one more day, I would tell you how much - that I've missed you since I've been away. Oh, it's dangerous, it's so out of line to try to turn back time. I'm sorry for blaming you for everything I just couldn't do. And I've hurt myself by hurting you."_

Derek watched the face on the screen in disbelief at Marti's suggestion. Maybe the words did sort of fit them…if he believed that she regretted leaving him. But…

And then he watched as the close up revealed the tears begin to fall from Casey's eyes.

* * *

**AN:**

**Casey's Dance = The Voice Within - C. Aguilera**

**Chloe's Dance = Ain't No Other Man - C.A.**

**Chloe's Song = Dirrty - C.A.**

**Casey's Song = Hurt - C.A.**

**if you don't know them, do Youtube them. It gives you a feel for the scene.**


	29. Confessions

Casey lay in bed looking at the ceiling. She felt drained, washed out, laid bare. She had cried in front of millions of people, although Trevor and Harriet had reassured her that they were dignified tears which lent gravitas to her performance.

She still felt raw as though the whole world had seen inside her heart.

The judges had, again, been complimentary about her efforts, praising her pitch and diction as well as the "understated" costuming and "restrained" choreography. The crowd had liked the song too, recognising that what Casey lacked in dramatics she more than made up for in ability and quality.

The two people evicted were a minor soap star and a girl famous for being famous, but, Chloe won again which meant she was declared the winner of the first round.

Casey had come a very close second.

She supposed she should be relieved she was still in the competition, but she wasn't sure she wanted to live through another four weeks of Chloe. The model had not taken the news of Casey's second place very well, moaning to her support team even as she left the stage at the end of the results – and still within Casey's hearing.

"What did she expect?" Trevor had asked. "That you were going to be a talentless walk over? Let's face it. The only reason she won was because she showed more flesh and wobbled her tits." Harriet smacked him on his arm and glared at him, and Casey noticed that he had made the comment deliberately loudly as they were passing a press area.

They had wanted to celebrate her second place – and discuss the next step, but in the end Harriet had taken pity on Casey, and seeing her drained look sent her to bed.

…Which brought Casey here, in her room, lying in a world of her own, and although she had little idea where her mind actually was, she was thinking about Derek, which was nothing new. She was wondering if he had seen the performance, wondering if he recognised the significance of the words. And yet again, she acknowledged she missed him.

The ceiling was a faded white colour, the walls a sage-green stripe. Her furniture was dark wood, and the bed-linen a weird emerald green. From her reclined state she could see the full length windows which opened onto the tiny half balcony overrun with ivy which trailed to the ground below, an ancient trellis hidden from view failing completely to keep the variegated climber in check. It was all very…literary at a time when she wanted realism.

Her new Blackberry vibrated on the nightstand and Casey reached for it. It was an email from someone called and even though she had never heard of this person before she snickered.

**Are you okay?** The stranger asked.

**Yes. Who are you?** Casey replied immediately. There was a beep as the person also replied quickly.

**That was a quick response! Are you logged on?**

Casey was frustrated that "DeSpawn" did not enlighten her as to their identity. She typed another reply.

**My email is diverted to my Blackberry. Who are you? **

Another beep. **I thought your phone was broken. **The irritatingly illusive person typed.

She sat up in bed quickly and glanced at her screen frowning. How did this person know that?

**It got replaced. WHO IS THIS?** She typed in frustration.

Her phone rang immediately.

"Me." Said a familiar voice when she answered, and Casey felt the tears well up again.

"Derek?" She asked tentatively her hands beginning to shake.

"You mean you didn't recognise me from the email handle?" He joked, and his voice didn't sound particularly calm either. "I chose it so that you would know it was me."

"Idiot." She whispered softly, but he didn't miss the warmth of her tone.

"Are you okay, princess?" Derek asked again, closing his eyes to listen to her speak. "You were crying."

"You watched the programme?" She sounded surprised.

"Hey come on! Cruella DeVille meets Snow White – the whole country is talking about it. Of course I watched. Besides, I have a vested interest…" He added quietly.

"So what does that make me? Cruella or Snow White?" Casey arched an eyebrow at the phone.

"Well I don't see you running round in puppy skins." Derek said, leaning back against his own headboard but keeping his voice to a low whisper.

"You think of me as Snow White?" His ex-lover asked.

"Nah, more like off-white Suzy." He smirked back, relaxing. Teasing Casey was as easy as breathing.

"Remind me again why I'm talking to you?" Casey tried to sound pissed, but she was too happy that he was on the other end of the phone.

"Coz I'm your best friend and you miss me." He had a point.

"Huh! Like you don't miss me!" And so did Casey.

"Fine! I miss you." Derek admitted.

"Good! I miss you too." Casey retorted back. Derek smiled.

"Does this mean we're talking to each other again?" He suggested.

"No. But we're at least fighting again." Casey grinned too.

"No-one gives good argument like you." He flattered her.

"Thank you. The feeling is mutual." She returned the favour.

"Casey?"

"Hmm."

"I really do miss you. It's not the same here."

"I know. For me either."

"Why were you crying?"

There was a long pause. "My heels were crippling me." She lied.

He laughed loudly and then swore.

"What?" Casey asked.

"Marti's in the spare room. I don't want to wake her. It will be like Spanish Inquisition if I did."

"Which room is she in?"

"Dad and Nora's room."

"And where are you?"  
"Our bedroom."

"That's the other end of the house." Casey said, misinterpreting the "Our".  
"_Our_ room, Casey. The master bedroom. Not the second bedroom."

"I thought you said Chloe made you move." Casey stated, trying hard to ignore the way he called his old bedroom _Our_ room.  
"Yeah and I moved back." Derek ignored his own comment too.

"Oh." What else could she say? "How's the view? The flowers will start to come out in a few weeks. Spring's around the corner."

"I know. You'll have your work cut out weeding." He said firmly.

"You have a gardener, Derek."

"You do it better."

"Does that mean you want me to visit you?" She asked tentatively.

_Hell honey, I want you to move in, but let's take one step at a time, huh?_ Thought Derek.

"It means my borders need weeding." Was what he actually said.

"Yes. I've often thought that." She quipped. He chuckled and changed the subject back to the competition.

"I was impressed…with your singing, and the dancing. You did good upholding the family honour."

"Thank you. I've got a good team behind me."

"And a bitch of an ex-sister-in-law in front of you."  
"I can handle Chloe." Casey said determinedly, surprised at how true the statement was.

"I know you can, princess." He sighed. "I'm sorry you have to."

Casey shrugged even though he couldn't see. "I'll live."

"I'll make it up to you. When do you get out of that joint?" He asked.

"Four weeks, why?"

"We need to talk. I'll treat you to dinner."

"We're talking now."

"No we're not. We're bantering with each other. We need to talk…properly."

"About what?"

"Casey…" he groaned in frustration.

She sighed. "Sorry."

"No. I am. I didn't mean it, you know. The "freak" comment. That wasn't what I meant. It wasn't even a slip of the tongue. I just didn't think. And then you ran and…"

"Let's just drop it, okay? You're right. We shouldn't be talking about this over the phone."

"Okay. We'll drop it for now. But we're going to put this right, Casey. We've spent too much time apart lately. Or at least, I think so."

"So do I." She agreed.

"Come on." He said changing the subject. "Tell me all the insider gossip from Camp Horror." He shuffled in bed as though making himself comfortable and Casey laughed.

"Okay. So, remember the racing star? Well, apparently he has been spotted bed-hopping."

"Cool…whose?"

"Well this is the really juicy thing…it wasn't one of the women…"

"You're kidding?"

"No. Straight up. My dance instructor saw him and…"

Casey's voice carried on, telling Derek all about the things the cameras couldn't relay to the general public. Derek listened and commented, but mostly he was just enjoying the sound of her voice and the fact that the laughter was back.

* * *

Casey should have been bleary-eyed the next morning. She hadn't had much sleep. Derek had kept her talking for the best part of two hours which meant it was nearly two in the morning before she yawned so much he relented and let her hang up.

Not that she was complaining. Despite the level of nervous energy she had expended the day before she was riding a massive Derek high and caught herself giggling several times as she showered and prepared for breakfast.

They had talked only as friends, but for now, for Casey that was enough. They both knew they couldn't have anything more, so now was all about recovering what they had lost – and last night went a long way to doing exactly that.

She surfaced at eight thirty which was early for the Sunday morning. Casey was hoping it would enable her to avoid Chloe and maybe slip outside for a "wrapped up" walk in the grounds. Despite their discussion of how the weather was improving, it was still cold.

Her shoes clicked on the tiled floor as she crossed the reception area and moved towards the dining room. It was quiet, almost empty and Casey wondered how many of her fellow residents had stayed up celebrating/commiserating after the previous night's show.

Luan, at least, had made it up early. Casey's friend was just making her way around the breakfast buffet. She didn't always stay in the hotel, but she had told Casey that she was thinking of moving in properly so that she could catch up on her sleep. She said running around after all the competitors was taking its toll.

"Morning!" She greeted Casey cheerfully. Casey smiled back. "You look chirpy!"

Casey laughed. "Do I? I've no idea why."

"I don't think I've seen you smile that broadly before. I guess the fact you came second has finely hit."

"Maybe." Casey said cagily.

"Or maybe you're holding out on me…what happened?"

"Nothing. I'm just in a good mood."

"You're lying. I can tell." Luan stated. "But don't worry. I won't push."

"Thank you." Casey was grateful. She wanted last night to remain private. As she made her own way to the buffet to get her usual breakfast she caught a glimpse of herself reflected on a mirrored panel in the wall. There was a colour in her cheeks she hadn't seen for a while, and as she noticed it, it deepened.

Casey chatted happily to Luan over breakfast and then they decided to go for the walk Casey had planned. It was cold and damp but not entirely unpleasant, and Luan filled her in on the schedule for the rest of the week.

"Have you any idea what Trevor and Harriet have planned for you for round two?" Luan asked. Casey shook her head.

"No. Although Trevor made some comment about "having some _real_ fun". I dread to think what that will entail."

"It will be interesting no doubt." Luan gazed off into the distance. "If I were you, I'd avoid Chloe. She wasn't too happy last night."

"She won!"

"I know. But only just. She set you up for a fall, and you didn't oblige. She's pissed."  
"Great! I guess it will be more of the same this week."

"Hmmm. I wonder what Derek Venturi makes of all this." Luan spectulated. "I mean that Dirrty act…"

"He called her Cruella Deville last night." Casey said without thinking. She froze.

"How do you know that?" Luan asked.

Casey coughed, saw Luan's intense gaze and then relented. "He phoned me after the show."

Luan frowned. "I thought you weren't talking."

"We weren't."

"But you are now?"  
Casey nodded.  
"No wonder you're smiling so much. I'm really pleased Casey. You look so much happier. Like the weight of the world is off your shoulders."  
"It is. I can cope with anything except Derek's silence."

"Well you'll have to with Chloe. She'll be bad enough over your performance. Can you imagine how pissed she'll be if she finds out he called you and not her? He didn't call her, did he?"

"No. We were on the phone most of the night."

Luan's eyes widened, but she said nothing. Uncle Paul had laughed when she had told him she would be looking after Casey. The first thing he had said was "Watch out for Derek."

Luan might be young, but she could tell jealousy when she saw it, and Chloe was definitely jealous of Casey. She had wondered what the model had to be jealous about: Chloe was gorgeous and rich with men falling for her left, right and centre.

She might have thought it was about Casey's talent except Chloe had been a bitch before she found out about that. Eventually, Luan had worked out that Chloe was jealous of Casey's relationship with Derek.

At first, that seemed silly because Casey was Derek's step-sister as well as his friend. Chloe wanted a romantic relationship with him, not a familial one.

But now as Luan looked at Casey, pink-faced over a call from her "step-brother" she realised Chloe was right to be jealous. Step-siblings or not, Derek's phone call had provoked a very interesting reaction in Casey.

* * *

Casey was going to meet Harriet and Trevor after lunch for some warm-up exercises and to find out what the new routines would be. As she sat waiting for them in their allocated rehearsal room her Blackberry vibrated.

**Morning! Or should I say Afternoon? I've just woken up. You can talk the hind leg off a donkey.**

Casey grinned. **Did you just call yourself an ass?**

**Ha ha! Can I call you tonight?** Derek asked.

Her grin got wider. She shouldn't be this pleased about a phone call from her best friend…should she?

**Ten?**

**Sure. What are you doing now? **Derek yawned.

Casey's fingers flew over the keypad. **Waiting for first rehearsal. You?**

**I'm lying in bed.**

Casey's eyes widened as her mind descended into the gutter.

**It's nearly 1pm!** She said mentally reprimanding herself even as she reprimanded Derek.

**Yeah well, some chick kept me up all night.** Apparently the Derek smirk was audible now.

**You wouldn't let me sleep! **Casey protested.

**You could have hung up.** He pointed out.

**No I couldn't.** Casey was honest.

**Me either. **And so was Derek.


	30. Flaunting It

The second week progressed much like the first. Rehearsals continued, Chloe's bitchiness continued and Trevor and Harriet came up with performance ideas that had Casey's eyes widening in astonishment – and questioning her own sanity again.

But, despite this, Casey was in a better frame of mind this week.

Firstly, Derek was speaking to her.

Secondly, Derek was speaking to her – a lot.

Thirdly…actually, he was rarely off the phone.

"Your phone bill is going to be enormous, Derek." She chided him on the Wednesday of the second week.

"So _you_ phone _me_ then." He suggested. Casey considered that.

"Okay. I'll call you back." She said, hanging up.

He was chuckling when he answered. "I didn't mean straight away."  
"Why not?" She said smiling and then launched into a continuation of the conversation/argument they had had at breakfast.

It was easy to talk to him. They fell in and out of conversation the way they had at college. Actually, a lot of the time it was more argument than conversation. Nothing serious, just the bantering of two thirty-somethings who have more than a little shared experience between them.

"Why the hell did you volunteer for the competition?" Derek asked one time.

"It was sort of thrust upon me." Casey revealed. "I didn't come up with a valid reason not to quickly enough."

And then another time, after Casey had endured a mammoth Chloe session – which she didn't bother to share with Derek. "Why the hell did you marry Chloe, D?"

"It was sort of thrust upon me." He revealed. "I didn't come up with a valid reason not to quickly enough." Casey stuck her tongue out at him even though he couldn't see her and he continued. "Besides, my best friend was a complete fail at talking me out of it."

"I was supposed to talk you out of it?" Casey gasped. "You gave it to me as a fait accompli."

"I was expecting you to throw a hissy fit."

"I wouldn't have done that Derek."

"I know. I got that after the event when you didn't. Why not?" The last part was added softly and slightly hesitantly. Derek still wasn't sure if Casey felt anything other than friendship for him. He knew they missed each other, but he wasn't sure how far that went – on her part at least.  
"Because I thought you were in love, that you'd moved on and met the right person. Who was I to turn around and tell you otherwise?"

"You were my best friend, Casey. You _are_ my best friend. Even if you didn't feel that way about me, I wanted you to put your best friend hat on and call a halt to it."

"If that's what you wanted why did you go through with it?"  
Derek sighed. "Because the way you looked at me when I said it…I was convinced you didn't care."

"You're an idiot."

"Yeah. I know."

She huffed. "And so am I."

* * *

"Oh look! It's the little virgin and her guardian angels." Chloe screeched across the dining room that evening. This week apparently, she had given up on pretending to be friends. She was being openly bitchy now, and for some reason had decided to play on the restrained performances Casey had given by openly calling her out as a virgin. Actually she alternated between calling Casey a mousey little virgin and a tramp – both privately and, to Casey's horror, in some of her post-contest interviews.

This actually amused Casey, because obviously she wasn't either. She wondered what Chloe would make of Derek's role in the loss of Casey's aforementioned commodity. She said nothing.

Derek was a sore topic for the model. Luan confided that Chloe had expected him to phone her after the show with declarations of love and contrition. Casey had snorted at that, pointing out that Derek had nothing to be contrite about…for once.

It was a nice feeling to be reminded by Luan that while Chloe had been expecting Derek to phone _her_ after the show, he had actually been on the phone to Casey…if not swearing undying love, he was at least making an effort to repair their friendship.

Whilst Chloe knew nothing of those phone calls and only guessed at Casey's affection for Derek, she was not pleased with the situation. Rumour had it that Chloe's performances for round two were going to be direct attacks on Casey. The latter wasn't sure what Derek's ex was planning, but Trevor had replied that she shouldn't worry because he had it covered and then proceeded to share his "fabulous" idea. At the end, Casey wasn't sure who she was anymore even as she agreed.

She danced and sang in the daily rehearsals, and they reassured her she was doing well, but it didn't feel right. Casey felt as though she was being bitchy and whilst she admitted to herself at least that Chloe's behaviour to herself was less than pleasant she wasn't sure that it justified the reaction that Trevor and Harriet had planned.

Until the final rehearsal on Saturday morning.

* * *

Press coverage of the show had been extensive. The same reviewer whose preview Casey had forwarded to Lizzie had been quick to give his opinion after the show.

_**Stars Ripping Out Hearts?**_

"_Wow! Okay. Which of you is going to be silly enough to raise your hand and say you didn't watch Star with Hearts last week? Shame on you! Press the record button now, because this turkey has wings! Who said that we'd seen everything that reality TV had to offer…Bring on the mud and let the slinging begin!_

_For those not in the know, Friday and Saturday saw the opening round of the new reality TV show Star with Hearts, which on paper at least promised to be as limp and uninteresting as the tired genre it apparently rests under. Oh boy, were we wrong!_

_Not even counting the alleged shenanigans between (the sheets of) Racing golden boy Carlos Sanchez and ex-newshound Ralph Edwards (another story altogether!), what is going on between Chloe Prescott and Casey McDonald? _

_Can anyone say "Meow"?_

_Despite her attempts to portray it as something else, Miss Prescott's thinly disguised hatred of her "BFF" Miss McDonald is like the best car crash TV ever! Seriously, you just spend the whole time wondering when they were going to quit the act, put up their dukes and get down to it._

_Instead, they both provided impressive performances which could not have been more dissimilar if they tried._

_Miss McDonald's performance was without question perfect: Perfect music, perfect choreography and perfect costuming. Her skills as a singer were only overshadowed by her skills as a dancer, and I for one was left wondering why such a talented lady has found her niche as a writer instead. (I've read all her books, she's pretty darned good at them too). Where her fellow competitors used elaborate costumes, hers were understated, her make-up minimal, and the emotion she displayed in her rendition of "Hurt" was painful in all the right ways. By rights this lady should be walking away with the competition already…but she isn't because someone opened the door to Chloe Prescott's boudoir and decided to give us a show._

_Miss Prescott's performance was larger than life, extravagant and visual. What she lacked in skill she made up for in volume. Her costumes were there…just, and I never knew that fingernails that long existed!_

_The crowd loved her, and the music choices she made. Personally, I found it too much._

_In the end, round one was predictable because a supermodel doing a rendition of Dirrty was always going to be a win. But on all other levels, the night was Casey McDonald's. _

_I am left pondering two things:_

_Number One: What would happen if Casey McDonald were to perform something more…raunchy – we all know she has the skills._

_Number Two: With an ex-wife and a step-sister like that, what on earth must Christmas be like in the Venturi household?_

_This Saturday sees Round Two: Musicals._

_I can't wait."_

* * *

They were standing in the corridor outside of the main ballroom, listening to Chloe's rehearsal in the other room. Trevor was squinting through the tiny gap between the doors trying to see what Chloe up to.

"Well she's wearing a copy of your little white outfit, with a wig like your hair and she appears to be singing…"

"Sandra Dee." Harriet finished for him. "Yeah. We can hear it, Trevor. So she's dressed up like Casey and is singing a song about a girl being a virgin. It could have been worse, I suppose."

Casey stared at her. "Why does this have to be a competition between us?" She asked.

"Why doesn't she just choose a musical number and sing it? Why drag me into it?"

Luan smirked "You know why. Derek."

"But I don't want to play her game. It's sick."

"Casey. If you get up on stage tonight and let her walk all over you people will think you are a door mat. If you get up there and give as good as you get…they'll think you are strong." Trevor pointed out.

"They'll think I'm insane."

"No they won't." Harriet joined in. "They'll think you're responding to something she started."  
"I'm not a bitch."

"I know. But you do have a back bone. Use it."

"Okay. But I still think it is over the top." Casey stated.

They were quiet for a while listening. Then Casey frowned.

"Is this her dance piece?" she asked as a new piece of instrumental music started. It was lively in a very Disney sort of way. Trevor bent his eye to the gap again.

"Oh my! She's doing polkas! Very slap-dash I might add. Yes it would appear this is her dance. What is it? I don't recognise it."

"It sounds familiar." Luan said.

Casey though it did too. She frowned for a while and then her eyes widened.

"The bitch!" She exclaimed. "It's the Step-sisters' Lament."

"From Cinderella?" Harriet asked. "Yes you're right. And she is a bitch. That's an awful song."

"…And totally aimed at you."

"What's the play order this evening?" Harriet asked Trevor.

"Dance first, then singing. Why?"  
"We need to up this a gear." Harriet said thoughtfully.

"You read my mind, duckie."

Casey looked horrified. "Trevor, you've already got me dancing to a song that I'm really not sure is a good idea. What more are you going to do?"

"Nothing to your dance. But when you sing the song in part two, we're going to dress you up as Chloe. You know wig, copy of her dress etc. Chloe's from Quebec, isn't she? Can you do a Montreal accent?"

"What?"

"Casey…give as good as you get."

"But…"

Luan turned away from gap in the door where she had been watching, her face frozen in an appalled look.

"Oh my god! She just announced on camera that you have a weird crush on your step-brother."

Casey gasped and when she turned to face her team she hissed in a heavy accent with French undertones. "Lead me to the freaking wig."

* * *

Chloe's performance was not as good tonight. It was as though some of the effort which should have been spent on polishing the performance was spent coming up with ways to make Casey's life a misery. Not only did she dance to the Lament – a song clearly about two ugly step-sisters' sour grapes over not being chosen by Prince Charming, but her version of Sandra Dee involved her wearing Casey style clothes and even occasionally changing the words from "Sandra Dee" to "Casey". It was cruel and it was unpolished, but it was still good enough that the crowd loved it.

"Tell me I'm doing the right thing." Casey pleaded with Luan.

"You're doing the right thing." Luan obliged. Casey looked panicked, but Luan smiled. "Honestly. You are. She's been horrible to you. Go out there and show her you aren't going to take it lying down.

So Casey sucked it up, slipped on her ball-gown, buckled her glittery shoes onto her ankles and took Trevor's white-gloved hand before stepping out on to the stage to Frank Sinatra's dulcet tones.

"_She gets too hungry for dinner at eight. She loves the theatre, but doesn't come late. She's never bother with people she'd hate. That's why the lady is a tramp."_

Trevor spun Casey around the floor with grace and poise whilst Harriet watched from the sidelines. Chloe's dance had been infantile like the Disney movie it came from, Casey's was classic, elegant and so subtle a dig that it was far more comfortable to watch. Besides which, Trevor cut a dashing figure in his top hat and tails, and Casey outfit was reminiscent of Ginger Rogers and the style of the forties. Harriet had to hand it to her fellow coach he had technical ability, a classic understanding of the female form – and the bitchiness only a jilted gay guy possesses. It was the perfect combination for dealing with Chloe. She leaned back and enjoyed the sight of Casey stealing the dance section out from under Chloe's nose.

Casey was breathless when she came off stage.

"I can't believe I just did that!" She gasped. "It felt amazing!"

"It looked even better." Luan reassured her, handing her a towel so that she could clean up before going in front of the judges.

The judges loved it. Chloe did not and she liked Casey's song even less.

Her costume was a red flasher raincoat, her wig the exact same ash blonde of Chloe's hair which was cleverly and securely woven into Casey's own hair. She stepped onto the stage and straight over to the judges and posed.

"Yesterday…" She said breathlessly mimicking Chloe's accent perfectly. "I was inspired to write this song."

A piano played an introductory arpeggio and she began.

"Ven you got it, flaunt it. Step right up and strut your stuff. People tell you modesty's a wirtue but in the theatre modesty can hurt you."

She stepped away and continued. "When you got it, flaunt it."

She removed the red coat to reveal an exact copy of Chloe's red dress from the first round.

"Show your assets let them know you're proud." She spread her arms. "Your goodies you must push" [she shoved her breasts forward] Stick your chest out, shake your tush [butt shake] Ven you got it, shout it out loud."

She straightened.

"Now Chloe dance." She announced in a loud speaking voice, turning her back on the judges and wiggling her butt so much her whole body – including her breasts – wobbled. Casey danced around the stage and then back to the judges worming her way between them.

"Ven you got it, show it. Put your hidden treasures on display." She said, lifting a stocking-clad leg on the table, revealing a red garter belt.

"Violinists love to play an E-string, But audiences really love a G-string." She stood up and started to dance around the stage again. "Ven you got it, shout it! Let the whole vorld hear vat you're about. Clothes may make the man. All a girl needs is a tan. Ven you got it, let it hang out!"

She returned to the table.

"Remember ven Chloe dance? Chloe dance again!" She beamed vacuously and then launched into a strutting dance which involved a dining chair placed in the middle of the stage, and much flashing of leg and garter belt. Then she came back to the table again.

"Ven I was yust a little girl in Quebec, My thoughtful mother gave me this advice. If nature blesses you from top to bottom, Show that top to bottom, don't think twice." She wagged her index finger at them and then sat on the table between the judges.

"Now Chloe belt!...Don't think twice!"

She stretched her arms out and wiggled her breasts again.

"Ven you got it, share it" She roared. "Let the public feast upon your charms. People say that being prim is proper. But ev'ry showgirl knows that prim will stop her."

Casey roared again, swinging her legs up so that her stocking tops flashed.

"If you got it, give it." She turned around on the desk and lowered herself backwards, head to the floor, still singing. Her dress fell downwards as she did so, revealing her (decent) underwear.

"Don't be selfish, give it all a-vay!" She put her hands on the floor beneath her head and kicked back into a handstand and then the splits when she reached the ground.

"Don't be shy, be bold 'n' cute. Show the boys your birthday suit." She danced around the stage in front of the judges wobbling her cleavage.

Finally she belted out. "Ven you got it, if you got it… Once you got it, shout out hooray!"

Casey finished. There was a moment's paused. She leaned towards the judges and said in the accented voice.

"Okey Dokey. You like it?"

One of the male judges grinned and Casey knew he had seen the musical before.

"Like it? I want you to know my dear, even though we're sitting down, we're giving you a _standing_ ovation."

.

"Oh my _fucking_ God, baby, you totally _nailed_ that!" Trevor greeted her as she left the stage to a standing ovation. Casey grinned, hugged him and then went back to hear the verdict from the judges who like the audience were also standing up clapping.

* * *

Luan helped her to the rehearsal room. They passed Chloe's rehearsal room just in time to hear Chloe screeching at the producer. "I want her _off_ the show!"

Casey met Luan's eyes and raised her eyebrows.

"Don't worry about it. I just heard the ratings are through the roof. You aren't going anywhere."

They reached the room and closed the door.

"Casey. I need to warn you about something." Luan began.

"The last time you said that I found out my skank of an ex-step-sister-in-law was going to be my roomie."

"Yeah well. Not sure this is as bad, but it might be a bit of a shock."

"Oh?"  
"Derek was in the audience tonight."

* * *

**AN: For a proper appreciation of Casey's rendition of "If you've got it flaunt it" – The Producers, go to You tube and search for Uma Thurman's version. **_**Please**_** do…it's hilarious!**

**You'll have noticed I'm not repeating much of the songs, but the Flaunt it one was an exception. Where the lyrics are important, I will include them in the Author's Note. So here goes…**

**The Lady is a Tramp (Casey is saying if this is being a tramp that's fine by her)**

She gets too hungry, for dinner at eight  
She loves the theater, but doesn't come late  
She'd never bother, with people she'd hate  
That's why the lady is a tramp

Doesn't like crap games, with barons and earls  
Won't go to Harlem, in ermine and pearls  
Won't dish the dirt, with the rest of those girls  
That's why the lady is a tramp

She loves the free, fresh wind in her hair  
Life without care  
She's broke, but it's ok  
She hates California, it's cold and it's damp  
That's why the lady is a tramp

Doesn't like dice games, with sharpies and frauds  
Won't go to Harlem, in Lincolns or Fords  
Won't dish the dirt, with the rest of those broads  
That's why the lady is a tramp


	31. Truths and Lies

Derek stood with the rest of the audience as Casey finished her song, but he did it on auto-pilot. He clapped and cheered with the rest of the large room (some 150 people), but his mind was not really focussed. He had been surprised by Casey tonight like everyone else. For the others, it was because they didn't really know Casey.

Derek was surprised because he did.

It wasn't that he thought she wasn't capable of such a performance, because he knew for certain that she was. She could stand up on stage in front of anyone and belt out anything if necessary. But he knew Casey, and he knew that for her to stand up and sing something so obviously aimed at Chloe, she must have been provoked.

Of course he didn't know what had been the trigger because the producer had decided that he couldn't risk the lawsuit which would have been inevitable if he actually screened this morning's interview with Chloe (where she accused Casey of lusting after Derek). It had been cut out of the "The week at a glance" section which always opened each week's episode of "Stars with Hearts" (on a screen in the hall for the real audience).

The omission hadn't bothered Chloe. She had already arranged for that segment to make its way to another station for one of their gossip programmes to pick up tomorrow night.

But the omission did mean that Derek was only guessing at what had led Casey to perform such a song in such a way. He did, however, know that Chloe had something to do with it.

So now, instead of his original plans, he was negotiating his way behind the scenes because he had a visit to pay.

The beefy security guard at the door blocked his way until his supervisor arrived. The supervisor was more helpful though because apparently the producer (at Chloe's insistence) had left word that Derek was to be allowed back stage if he requested it – to pay a visit to his "wife".

Which was exactly what Derek was planning to do.

* * *

Chloe was preening herself in her bedroom. She had been initially extremely pissed off at Casey's success. Chloe did not like coming second to anyone – especially Casey McDonald. However, her attitude completely changed the moment _her_ assistant informed her that Derek was in the audience. Chloe smiled broadly, convincing herself that he had decided to visit her in person rather than phone – and that maybe he had only just found out about the competition which was why he had taken so long. She changed into something "comfortable", fussed with makeup and scent, and darted about trying to find somewhere to perch alluringly to await his arrival.

She didn't have to wait long.

Derek was never more disgusted with himself than when he entered his ex-wife's room. The thought that he had "married" this woman…

"We need to talk." He stated without preamble. "Now. At length. In full."

"Of course Darling. Do you want something to drink? I can get you some bourbon."  
"You know what Chloe? I _hate_ bourbon. I always have done, and the only reason why I ever drank it was because you asked me to because it fitted in with your idea of how I should be."

"A beer?" She said weakly, sensing that he was in a bad mood.

"No Chloe. Stop flapping. Sit."

She sat.

Derek ran his hand through his hair. "What's going on with Casey?" He asked eventually.

Chloe sighed dramatically. "I don't know. She just seems to have lost it. Really suddenly. Is she bipolar?"

Derek glared at her. "I meant, what have you been doing to her?"

His former wife looked taken aback. "What do you mean what have I been doing to her? Did you see that dance out there? She _mocked_ me, live on TV."

Derek snorted. "Yeah. After you mocked her. Come on Chloe? The Step-sister's Lament?"

"How did you know…?"  
"I have a sister who is nine years younger than me, remember? I've watched Cinderella." Besides, he'd teased Casey about that song when they were fifteen. But that was different. It had been quiet and between them – not live on TV, and she'd got him back for that by freezing his underwear. His inner mind smiled at the memory, and his heart longed to get _this_ conversation over and done with so that he could get back on track.

"You also have a step-sister who is a complete freak."

Chloe had picked the wrong word. He snapped. "Don't call her that!" He took a deep breath before he started something he would regret. "Why are you doing this? If you want me back so badly why do you think that insulting my best friend is going to get you a foot in the door?"

"She's not your best friend, Derek. She's an irritating nuisance who hangs on your every word."

"Are we still talking about Casey?" Derek asked, bitterly. "Because from where I'm standing that's a fairly accurate description of yourself."

Chloe stood up and walked over to him, swinging her hips seductively.

"Dee-Dee. She broke into your house." She simpered. "I caught her rifling through your things. She can't let go. She's a sad lonely girl who instead of getting her own life decides to piggyback on everyone else's. On _our _marriage."

"_Marriage_? What marriage? We aren't married. You committed bigamy and you're fucking lucky you aren't in prison right now. What did you do? Bribe a judge?"

"Don't curse Derek, it makes you sound common."  
"Good. Because I am. And so are you. I've read the file. None of the background you "shared" with me is true, is it?"

"Can you blame me? I'm the daughter of a pig farmer! How glamorous is that?"

Derek walked away. "I've been watching the show." He said carefully. "Casey did nothing to provoke you until today, but you've had it in for her since the start."

"I was nice to her."  
"Can it, Chloe. You can't lie to me anymore. Seriously? You thought taunting Casey and putting her down was going to make me swoon at your feet? Reminding her that she's my step-sister? Singing "Look at me, I'm Sandra Dee"? Why Chloe?"  
"Oh come on. Nothing I taunted her about was untrue."

"That's crap."

"She _is_ your step-sister."

"And? What the hell difference does that make?"

"And she is a virgin…that much is plain as day."

Derek looked surprised. "Why would you think that?"

"Derek…be reasonable. Everything about her says "uptight". You look at her and immediately think what she wants is someone to give her an education."

"A what?"

"You know…explain to her what certain parts of her body are for."

"I'm done here." Derek said, making for the door. "We're finished Chloe. Get over it."

"No…don't. Come on. Please. I promise I'll be nice to her if you just give me another chance." There was a horrible wheedling quality to her voice.

"No." Derek said stopping at the door. He sighed. "Casey's not a virgin, Chloe."

"You're blind. How the hell would you know?" She pouted.  
Derek said nothing. He just watched Chloe carefully. She waited for him regardless. He sighed again.

"She's not a virgin. _I_ know that…for a fact. Leave her alone."

Chloe gasped. "Did you _have sex_ with her?"

Derek didn't answer for a moment.

"I _made love_ to her. Something I never did to you."

And then he passed through the door.

Chloe watched him walk away with a mix of horror, frustration and sadness. Her mind was awhirl from his revelation. They had _slept_ together. Derek, the love of _her_ life and Casey, the annoying bitch for whom everything went right!

Despite his words, it didn't register that all of Chloe's problems right now were of her own making, both the lack of Derek in her life and the renewed presence of his step-sister/former lover. Chloe wouldn't allow herself to hear the finality in his voice when he told her to move on or the love when he talked about Casey.

She watched him turn at the end of the corridor and she couldn't even focus enough to tell him the way out was in a different direction.

* * *

Casey made her way back to her room in a daze.

Derek had been in the audience?

Derek had been in the same room as her and she hadn't _seen_ him?

Not that she was expecting him to be there so she wasn't looking for him but, all the same…

She hadn't heard from him tonight but that wasn't surprising. She had left her phone and purse in her room, hence why she was on her way back there now. She wanted to see if he had tried to call her.

The hotel was eerie, even whilst it was so full of people and cameras. There were shadows everywhere, and the lighting appeared to have been an afterthought: weak and inadequate.

The camera crews and their journalists weren't allowed on the upper floors, but even so the organisers had cautioned them against assuming that the press wouldn't find a way to get past the uniformed guards and up the stairs. The performance nights were the only time that the ordinary press were allowed on site and in view of the tension and drama which had unfolded so far, it was likely that they would be on the prowl for juicy gossip.

It all made for a tense and rather nervous atmosphere among the contestants.

Casey reached the top step onto her floor and started down her corridor to the end. Then she gasped as a hand grabbed her from the shadows.

"Anyone following you?" A voice hissed in her ear. Casey shook her head and when released turned to look into the brown eyes of her best friend-cum-sometime-lover.

"Overly dramatic much?" She said curving an eyebrow.

"If you're going to shout at me can we do it in your room please? I'd rather the fact I'm prowling around the bedroom corridors didn't make it into the Sunday papers."

Casey grinned and led the way to her room, swiping her card key in the lock and pushing the door open. Derek followed her inside.

And then they stood and looked at each other expectantly.

"Chloe's pissed." Derek started.

"Yes. I'm sorry about that." Casey replied. Derek looked surprised.

"Really?" He sounded amused.

"No. But I don't want you to be upset with me." She admitted reluctantly.

He chuckled. "Why would I be upset?"  
"I made fun of your wife on national TV, Derek. I think, for once, that qualifies you for "seven degrees of pissed off" status."

"Well I'm not." He paused. "Actually I am…but not with you, with her. I know you wouldn't have done that lightly, so you did it because she provoked you. What did she do?"  
Casey broke her eyes away from his and pottered around her room gathering her pyjamas and wash-bag, as if she was ignoring him.

"Casey?"

She stopped. "Chloe told an interviewer, on camera, that I had an unhealthy crush on you and some other stuff. It was probably screened tonight."

"Not on the section I saw. But if I know Chloe it will be later. She'll have done it deliberately. Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Have an unhealthy crush on me."

Casey rolled her eyes. "You wish."

They grinned at each other. Derek crossed the distance between them and pulled her into a hug.

"I'm proud of you, Casey. What you did tonight took guts."

"Guts and a healthy dose of brandy." She confessed. He laughed and Casey cuddled closer to him. He looked down at her.

"Hi." She said weakly.

"Hi." He smiled back. "It's nice to see you. I guess we're friends again."

"Did we ever really stop?" Casey asked, leading him back to sit beside her on the bed.

"You were pissed with me for a while." He followed her, their hands joined and climbed up beside her.

"I was more hurt than anything." Casey said, letting their fingers link together.

"We still need to talk, don't we?" Derek suggested.

"Oh yes." She looked up at him. "I still can't…date you." She started.

Derek nodded. "I know. Actually, that's not what I'm asking for. I just want you to be around. To be my friend. If I could turn back time to…"

"…the point before we acted." Casey finished for him. "Yes. I wish that too sometimes."

"Only sometimes?" Derek queried.

She sighed. "The only thing I regret about that night is the path it took us down. I don't actually regret _it_."

"_It?_" He raised an amused eyebrow.

"I meant having sex with you."

"I know what you mean, but _it_ implies it only happened once, princess. As my memory serves me correctly…"

"…My memory is as good as yours Derek."  
"As I recall we _made love_ more than once." He emphasised his interpretation of their intimacy deliberately.

Casey turned bright red and Derek chuckled and pulled her into his side.

"We have nothing to hide from each other anymore." Casey looked up at him as he spoke. "We might never be anything more than friends, but I'll never be as close to anyone as I am to you."

And Casey knew it was true for both of them.

* * *

Derek stayed for a long time. He lay beside her on her bed, both of them fully clothed and a distance between them – but only physically. They laughed, they joked, they teased, and they argued. Slipping back into _them_ was as easy as breathing.

Casey wondered how she was going to be able to do this…be close to him whilst still keeping her distance. The phrase "friends with benefits" floated up briefly before she yanked it down, jumped on it repeatedly and kicked it under the bed. She wouldn't be able to do that. They couldn't do sex without emotion – because there was too much emotion there.

But she was convinced that they couldn't be a couple. Quite apart from how their family would feel about it, there was the reaction of the public – and it _was_ important. Derek made most of his money because of his appearance and his personality. The public could handle him being married. They couldn't handle him dating someone they saw as his _sister._

After a couple of hours of lying there talking, Casey was starting to look tired, and Derek was starting to feel tired too. He hadn't told Casey but he had played in the hockey game as promised earlier in the day – his first in many, many weeks. He'd played very well, and the team owed their victory to him.

When he did tell Casey, she was effusive – her pride shining on her face, and he thanked whichever omnipotent being had placed her in his life – again.

"Lizzie appears to be pulling Ed out of himself." Casey commented, remembering some of the emails that she had received over the past two weeks.

"And vice versa." Derek agreed. "She's all but moved in with him." He grinned at Casey. "She's doing his cooking and cleaning for him."

"Oh." Casey got the message.

"Yeah…oh."

"I wonder what Mom and George would think about that?"

Derek rolled onto his back. "Casey. Dad and Nora know about us." He said sliding his fingers into the hair at the back of her head.

Her eyes widened as she looked down at him and he saw the panic building.

"It's okay." He hastened to reassure her. "They understand."  
"Understand? How did they find out? What did they say?"  
Derek chuckled. "Apparently the family think we've been sleeping together for a while."

"A while?"  
"Since college."

"But that's ridiculous." Casey objected.

"Is it? I can think of at least ten occasions where I nearly jumped the shark. How about you?"

"Jumped the what?"  
"You know…took the leap of faith." He explained.

"Why didn't you?"  
"Normally because you slapped me round the face with a verbal wet fish."

Casey laughed. "Yup that sounds like us."

Derek was quiet for a moment and then he sat up.

"Casey…I…" He sighed and looked at her. "I lied."  
"About what?" She asked, concern crossing her face.

"I _am_ going to push. I won't be content with "just friends". I won't be rough about it, but I won't be gentle about it either. I want you in my life for the rest of my life, but I warn you, if you are…I'm going to be pushing for _us_ to happen and I'm probably going to be pushing for the rest of our lives. So just don't go throwing a hissy fit every time I do…okay?"

"I'll say no."

"Fine. Just so long as you don't get pissed at me for asking."

"Is this going to be our new fight? No more Keener/jerk arguments?"  
He laughed. "Probably."

"Jerk!" Casey chided but she was laughing when she said it.

"I should go. It will be daylight soon and I don't want to get caught sneaking out."

"'Derek Venturi caught sneaking out of sister's bedroom.' Nice headline."

He kissed her forehead and swung himself off the bed.

"How are you getting out?" Casey asked, following him.

"Erm…the window?" he asked.

She shrugged. "There's trellising but I'm not sure it will hold your weight."

"We'll soon find out, won't we?"

"Derek. You can't. What if you fall and break your neck?"

"At least you won't get pestered by your almost-boyfriend anymore."  
She smacked him on the arm.

"Don't say that."

"Hey. I told you I wouldn't be subtle."

"_That_ I can handle. I meant joking about your own death."  
"Aw! She'd miss me."

"Shut up or I'll shove you off myself." She warned.

Derek leaned back against the balustrade, arms folded.

"Night Juliet." He smirked.

"You're hardly Romeo, Jerk."

Derek stepped back to her and pulled her against him.

"I agree. The pantyhose would never fit." He said, and kissed her softly on the lips. Casey's body reacted for her and she let him part her lips and deepen the kiss.

"Go out with me." He whispered.

"No." She whispered back.

He laughed. "I'll get you one day. Call you tomorrow?" She nodded. Derek leaned towards her and kissed her briefly again.

And then he was gone, out of her arms, through the window and over the edge of the tiny balcony. Casey peered into the darkness.

"I'm not going out with you Venturi." She called softly.

"No. Of course not, sweetheart." He called back through gritted teeth and huffing as he climbed down. He jumped the last two foot and looked up at her.

"But you won't get rid of me this time." He promised. Casey rolled her eyes, but she murmured quietly – too quietly for him to hear.

"I'm counting on it."

Aloud, though still little more than a hiss, she reminded him about leaving before he was spotted.

"Okay, Okay! I'm going. Night beautiful."

"Good. Night. Derek!" She insisted.

He chuckled and then set off at a run across the frosty grass. A moment or two later, Casey heard and then saw the guard dogs following him, and Derek turn his head in surprise. He picked up his pace and sprinted for the perimeter wall, the dogs snapping at his heels.

Casey giggled.

Was it really a good idea to laugh while the love of your life was being chased by vicious dogs? Probably not, but she did it all the same.

She knew he would make it, because Derek always came out of things unscathed. But there was a sense of relief when she saw his last foot disappear over the wall leaving the dogs below.

"I love you, Moron." She whispered to the space he had left. And then she turned from the window, closing it behind her against the cold.

* * *

**AN: Okay, You have a choice now. I can't decide what order to do the next two rounds. So:**

**MOBO or Golden Oldies?**


	32. Evacuation Meets Cooling device

Derek slept through most of Sunday. The return to championship level hockey yesterday, plus the nervous energy of seeing Casey again, added to the unexpected sprint across the hotel lawns (only slightly ahead of a rabid Rottweiler) making him more than a little sleepy. He woke at 3pm to the sound of his phone ringing.

"Yes?" He answered, groggily.

"What the hell's the matter with you?" Tim, his agent asked.

"Late night and a hockey game." Derek yawned. "What time is it?"

"Time you got up."

"Why? It's Sunday. If I want to spend all day in bed I will." He objected.  
"What time did you get in last night?"

"Erm 5?" Derek squinted at the clock as though the answer was there.

"Am or Pm?"  
"Am. I think. It was still dark but only just."

"What was her name?"  
"Sorry?"

"Who kept you up till the early hours?"  
Derek paused. "You want the truth or the lies?"  
"Oh god…this is another PR disaster isn't it?"  
His client laughed. "No. I was at the 'Stars with Hearts' show."

"That finished at 9.30, D."  
"I had to see a man about a dog."

"That "dog" wouldn't be your ex-wife, now would it?"  
"Timothy! Did you just call Chloe a bitch? Shame on you."

"What? No…it's an expression…I…"

"Don't sweat it, Tim. I agree with you. I'm thinking of having her neutered."

"You might want to consider having her put down." Tim corrected. "Especially when you hear about tonight's edition of 'Green Light'." He said the name of the entertainment programme with distaste.

"Oh…this wouldn't have anything to do with a certain accusation about Casey would it?"  
"You _know_?" Tim's tone was accusatory.

"Casey told me."

"When did you see Casey?" Derek could hear the curled eyebrow.

"After the show."

"She was your 5am wasn't she?"

"Not how you think. We sat up talking most of the night. We were mending fences, building bridges. Repairing our friendship."

"Playing tonsil tennis."

"No." Derek ran his hand through his hair. "How bad is it?" He switched attention back to the gossip programme.

"Oh it's bad. I tell you, that woman has a serious screw loose."

"Casey? She's fine really. You just have to get to know her."  
Tim chuckled. "I meant your ex-wife, Derek. She's a real piece of work."

"What does she say?"

"You might want to give your family a call and warn them about the shit storm that's about to hit…and we need to talk about your response."  
"My response?"

"Oh yeah. They are definitely going to want to hear your side of the story."  
"How long have I got to warn the family?"  
"It goes out at about 8pm."

Derek took a deep breath. "Tell me the details and I'll decide how to handle this."

So Tim ran through the transcript that the producers of "Green Light" had faxed him for Derek's official comment. When he had finished, Derek sighed.

"I'm getting out of bed as we speak. I'll go and see them in person."

* * *

Derek showered and dressed, and then left for London. On the way, he dialled Casey's number on his car phone and tapped nervously on the steering wheel until she answered.

"Hi!" She greeted him cheerily.

"Hi princess!" he replied equally cheerily.

"What's wrong?" She snapped back.

"Why does something have to be wrong? Can't I phone my AG for a chat when I feel like it?"

"What's an AG?" Casey asked.

"Almost girlfriend." Derek enlightened her. "AG is less of a mouthful." He paused. "Go out with me."

She laughed. "No. Next…"

"Casey." He whined …and then Derek's voice became serious. "We got a bit of a problem."

"What have you done now?"

"Why does this have to be me?" he protested, and then realised he did share a large part of the blame. He shut up.

"Go on. Tell me. I can handle it."  
"Chloe-announced-on-tv-that-you-had-a-crush-on-me-and-that-we-slept-together." Derek spoke without a pause between the words.

"She did _what?_" Casey had been interpreting Derek mumbles for a decade and a half. She understood him first time. "How the hell did she know?"  
Derek coughed. "Technically, I might have told her." He admitted.

There was a silence.

"Casey?" Derek asked, wondering if the call had disconnected. Then he heard her shuffling and knew it was just that she wasn't speaking.

"Hang on. I'm going to pull over." He said, flicking the turn signal on and pulling to the side of the road.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." He said when the car was stationary. "She just wound me up and it slipped out."  
There was another long pause.

"Princess, say something." He pleaded.

"Derek. I need to know, okay? Is this a big joke to you? A 'get one over on the woman who married me bigamously' sort of joke…the kind where your long-suffering best friend conveniently helps you out?"

"No! Don't freak out about this, please. I can't lose you again." He pleaded.

In her room in the hotel, Casey closed her eyes against the threatening tears his words provoked.

"I can't lose you either." She murmured.

"We'll deal with this, love." He promised. "Together. AG or no AG. We're a team."

"What exactly did she say?"

_Interviewer: So Chloe…how does it feel to be roomies with your ex-sister-in-law?_

_Chloe: Okay, I suppose. We muddle along._

_Interviewer: I gather that despite the fact you were married to Derek for two years, you had only met his sister once before._

_Chloe nods._

_Interviewer: Why is that?_

_Chloe: Casey has always been a little…unconventional and also rather attached to Derek. She relied on him heavily in college and then when they both graduated he continued to be her grounding point. Casey found it difficult to adjust to him having a life of his own. She was always turning up at his house. _

_When we met and fell in love she didn't like it. She never came to our wedding, just sent us a tasteless, cheap vase. _["It wasn't CHEAP or tasteless!" Casey interjected.] _For a while we saw nothing of her, and then I discovered that she had started breaking into our home and routing through his things. I had to have the locks changed._

_Interviewer: That's quite disturbing. What does Derek think of all this?_

_Chloe: He's a saint. He puts up with so much from her. He's given her so much money, arranged for her to have a life. Some of it was from a sense of guilt but the rest is purely from the goodness of his heart._

_Interviewer: Guilt?_

_Chloe: He once confessed to me that in a mad moment, during a low point in his life, while he was high on alcohol and who knows what else, he…erm…slept with her. It was a sympathy fu…_

_Interviewer:…erm yes, well…erm. Hang on. You're saying that Derek Venturi slept with his sister?_

_Chloe: Yes._

Casey gasped.

"Don't freak, Casey. It's crap. You know it, I know it, hell even the interviewer probably knows it."

"She just branded you a freak."

"No. She branded you a freak. She branded me an alcoholic and a dope fiend who takes advantage of his mentally disturbed sibling."

"She hit the nail on the head then, didn't she?" Casey joked.

"Wow! You just joked about it."

"I know. Weird huh? I guess knowing that it isn't going to stop us being friends is enough. Right?" She needed reassurance.  
"Definitely."

"I mean if the family already know then…oh shit! The family! Derek, whether they know or not they can't hear it from the television!"

"I'm in the car on my way to London now." He reassured her.

"Okay."

"Casey. I talked to Tim. We've agreed a strategy for my response."

"Which is?"

"I'm going to be flippant. Please don't take offence at anything I say."

"That bad?" Casey asked but he could hear the chuckle in her words." It was just another reason why he loved her.

"Go out with me, Casey."

"No."  
"Not even as a friend?"  
Casey smiled. "We'll talk about friend-dates when I get out of this place. I tell you, even if sleeping with your step-sibling was an indictable offence, I've done my custodial sentence and hard labour."

"I think it's called taking one for the team. My turn comes now, because I've got to deal with the crap on the outside."

"How about I throw you a rope over the perimeter wall and you can sneak in?"

"Interesting. You liked last night then? I'll wangle an invite to this weekend's show too. We'll do a repeat. Same time, same place?"

"Being chased across the lawn by the canine equivalent of Chloe wasn't enough for you?"  
"You're totally worth it." He confessed.

"You're totally insane." She giggled.  
"Same time? Same place?" He asked softly.

Casey sighed. "_Please_. Just try and come up with another escape route before Romeo ends up with a massive bite in his hose."

* * *

"_Mr Venturi. What do you say to Miss Prescott's allegation that your sister has a crush on you?"_

_Derek smirked. "Can you blame her?"_

_The reporter blushed._

"_Derek is it true she used to break into your house?" Another press-man asked._

"_Casey has a key to my house. She was with me when I decided to buy it. She doesn't need to break in. She has always been welcome in my home."_

_A particularly gross specimen of tabloid reporter scratched an armpit as he raised his hand in question._

"_Did you fuck her?"  
Derek looked at him, hard and cold. "No. I didn't." He retorted. "And if you ever talk about my best friend like that again I will make a complaint to the Press Association and have your _credentials_ revoked." Derek's tone made it clear in what form the revocation would take._

"_Are you and your wife going to be working for a reconciliation?" another more amenable reporter asked._

_Derek chuckled. "Sure…just as soon as I get married." He beamed. "I don't have a wife. You may have read, Chloe Prescott is still married to Mr Prescott. I hope they will be very happy together."_

"_So rumours of a romance between you and your sister…"  
"Look. Casey McDonald is my _step_-sister, not my sister. It would help everyone if they just remembered that fact. She is also my best friend. I enjoy spending time with her, especially if she cooks…you should try her food sometime…it's to die for and totally the reason why women should be in the kitchen. However, we aren't dating and there are no plans at this moment in time to change that. So what you basically have is a non-story about two normal people who just happen to be really good friends, and one not-so-normal person who seriously needs to get a life. And just for the avoidance of doubt, that last bit wasn't about Casey, who's weird, but in a totally acceptable and completely non-stalker-like way…which is more than can be said for the model-formerly-known-as-Mrs Venturi."_

_He grinned at them. "You realise I now have two very angry women after me?" He joked. "Casey will never forgive me for the kitchen comment…and Chloe…is just Chloe."_

"_Who will you be voting for in the competition?" One brave soul asked._

_Derek turned to face him. "The best singer and the best dancer."_

"_Which is?"_

"_Boys and girls…come on! I'm sure you are more than capable of working that one out for yourselves. Open your eyes."_

"_Mr Venturi?" A tiny girl called, and Derek turned to look at her._

_She smiled weakly. "Athena Evans, Sir John Sparrow Thompson High Gazette. How do you feel about your hockey performance yesterday?"  
Derek smiled a genuine smile for the girl who was so normal beside all the vultures. _

"_I'm very proud of my performance. It was the real me. I've had enough of unrealistic expectations and false friends. I'm concentrating on the real world from now on. My life has been airbrushed enough."_

"_Do you have any words for the students at your old school?"  
"Yeah. It was a lesson I learnt on day one at school and it has given me much pause for thought over the years…look before you pee. Because you never know who or what is in your line of fire. And it might just bounce right back and hit you in the face. Oh…and if Lassiter is still there…say hi from me!"_

_

* * *

_

**AN: Round 3 will be Golden Oldies. For those of you that picked Golden Oldies because they didn't know what MOBO was...it's Music of Black Origin: anything from Soul through RnB to Hip Hop...**


	33. Payback is a Bitch

The credits rolled on the screen and the end music played…but the living room was silent. No one spoke. Everyone fidgeted and it was a while before George uttered the words everyone was thinking.

"What a bitch!"

Nora looked at him in horror. "George!"

"She is!"

"I know she is, but I'd rather you didn't use language like that in front of the children."

Edwin snorted. "We're all adults here, Nora. Well…except for Robbie. And…"  
Nora glared at him.

"…I'm just going to shut up." He finished. Lizzie patted the back of his hand.

"How's Casey?" Nora asked Derek. He shrugged.

"When I spoke to her, she was fine about it, but I was just reading the transcript. I suspect that she might have a different opinion since she has actually seen it broadcast."

At that, his cell phone rang, and he saw the words **AG Mob** flash on the screen.

"This is her." He said, and stood up to go take the call in the laundry room.

"She's a bitch!" Casey spat as soon as he answered. Derek smiled.

"Yeah. That's what dad just said."  
"You're with the fam?"  
"Yup."

"How did they take it?" She asked her voice suddenly small and fearful.

"Relax, Casey. They like the idea of you and me more than the idea of me and Chloe. They are pissed at her."  
"I can't believe she said those things."

"I know. I'm expecting more press questions tomorrow."

"You were lucky it was only a handful of the vultures outside your house."

"They were just the ones who were fortunate enough to have got the advance transcript. In the morning, it will be every Tom, Dick and Harriet who watched the programme."

"It's going to be nasty."

"Yes. But we can handle it. We talked about this, sweetheart. And by the time you come out of that hotel it will have all blown over."  
"In case you hadn't noticed, Derek, I'm currently rooming with the instigator of that farce."

"I know. I didn't say it would be easy."

"Are they really okay about us?"

Derek smiled to himself.  
"…not that there is an "_us"_ anymore." She quickly backtracked. Derek chuckled. _Yeah, right princess!_

"Do you want to speak to your mom?"

"Please."

He walked back into the living room and handed his phone to his step-mom.

"Hi sweetie!" Nora said with false cheeriness as she made her way into the kitchen.

"I'm sorry Mom."

"About what?"

"The programme and its revelations."

"Casey, you aren't to blame for your step-brother's inability to marry the right woman. She's a bitch, plain and simple."

Casey gasped. "Mom!" She was so shocked at her mother's words she neglected to point out that actually she was very much to blame for Derek marrying the wrong person.

"I just…" She started but Nora cut across her.

"Honey, her words are just that…words. She doesn't know you and clearly she doesn't know Derek well. And she certainly doesn't know us."

"But that's just it. Neither do the public. They'll believe her."

"Only if you rise to it. If you behave with dignity she'll just look like a jealous ex-wife with an axe to grind." Nora changed tack. "How's she been today?"  
"Smug." Casey sighed. "The weird thing is she seems to think her allegations are going to make Derek run back to her."

"That's never going to happen. He's not stupid."

Casey snorted.

"Don't say it Casey." Nora smiled. "You know he isn't. He fell for you, didn't he?"  
"I think that was more of a case of tripping over his laces while his mind was on other things actually." Casey admitted.

After a few more moments chat, Nora gave the phone back to Derek who went to the laundry room again.

"Are you okay?" He asked into the phone. Casey sighed.

"Yes. I'm just going to go to sleep and pretend tonight didn't happen."

"And in the morning?"  
"In the morning, I'm also going to pretend that tonight didn't happen. And then I'm going to retreat to my rehearsal room and don my strait-jacket."

Derek chuckled at her joke. "You'll be fine sweetheart."

"Night Derek."

"Night Honey." And then he hung up.

In her room in the hotel, Casey stared at her phone.

"He hung up?" She said in disbelief. "But he didn't ask me to go out with him."

She frowned.

Then she placed the phone on the night stand, her frown deepening and started to get ready for bed. Every few minutes she would look at the silent phone in frustration.

"Why?" She said aloud.

"Why didn't he ask? Doesn't he want that anymore?" She paused, her toothbrush half-way to her mouth.

"Oh god! Maybe he thinks that Chloe's right and…"

Casey put down her toothbrush and walked over to pick up her phone. It was still quiet, no missed texts or calls. She put it down again and walked away.

"I'm stupid. It doesn't mean anything. I…" She ran to the night-stand and picked it up again, quickly removing the password screen and selecting Derek's phone from the quick-dial.

He answered straight away with a chuckle and before she could explain her reason for ringing, he second-guessed her.

"Go out with me McDonald and then you won't have to worry when I don't ask." He said, climbing into his car. His car kit picked up the signal from his phone and Casey's voice filled the small space.

"I hate you."

"No you don't." He said with a laugh. "If you did we wouldn't be in the middle of this."

"I can't, Derek."

"I know. But I can't stop asking. I'm going to keep on asking until you give in or one of us dies."

"Chloe got it wrong…you're the stalker."

He laughed. "Probably."

Casey sat on her bed. "Where are you?" She asked softly.

"On my way home to face what is no doubt a barrage of reporters."

"Call me when you make it indoors. I want to know that you're okay."

"Sure." He paused in the act of switching the ignition on. "I miss you. I wish you felt the same."  
"I said I wouldn't go out with you Derek. Not that I didn't feel the same way. I miss you too."

"As a friend?"

"Derek…"

"Sorry. Some times I just feel like I _am_ a stalker and maybe I should go out and get a life."

"You're not a stalker. You're just someone who fell for the wrong person…" Casey took a deep breath. "…and so am I."

"You seriously expect me to be able to dance in this?" Casey objected the next morning when she saw Trevor's idea for her dance costume. "You said a nice familiar jazz number…not Rocky Horror."  
Trevor shook his head. "Nah. I considered Rocky Horror, but it's so passé. I have to say I was struggling until that programme last night, and then when I saw what the Wicked Witch was saying about you, I just knew what I had to do with your dance."

Harriet, it appeared, had taken pity on her. A nice easy ballad…until Casey saw the costume for that number too.

"You're both insane!" Casey grumbled.

"No Duckie…you are!" Trevor laughed…and Harriet joined in.

The evening meal on Monday was tortuous. There was no other word for it. The other contestants stared at her, and Chloe was holding court in one corner, her hands flying wildly whilst she talked. On the rare occasions that Casey met her gaze, the supermodel smirked in an evil way and Casey wished she hadn't bothered looking.

The producer sent Luan to ask if Casey was willing to make a statement to the press, but Casey declined saying that all she was concentrating on at the moment was getting ready for the competition because a large number of very poorly children needed the money. She referred them to Angela and when asked about Derek referred them to Tim.

The devil himself phoned her at bedtime and they spent their usual couple of hours bantering between them before he asked her to date him – she declined - and then said good night. Casey lay in bed, her head clouded with emotions, and her heart wondering yet again why fate was being so cruel.

_**Stars with Hearts – Saturday 7.30pm**_

_I'm in love with an amazing woman!_

_Never mind the fact I'm a fifty-something disillusioned gay guy with a pathological hatred of all things reality TV. If Derek Venturi doesn't see what a gem he has in front of his very eyes I may very well run away with Miss McDonald myself!_

_Not only is the angel an extremely talented dancer and singer, but apparently she is a queen of wit too! Her fantastic routine to the old classic "The Lady is a Tramp" was a fantastic smack in the nose for her green-hued former sister-in-law and her snide comments. Casey is no tramp and everything she did tonight proved it._

_In contrast to the horrible, lame polka routine to Disney's rancid Step-sister's Lament (point scoring MUCH!), Miss McDonald's efforts were clean, elegant and enchanting. Her costume choice was sophisticated, her moves divine and I for one was on the edge of my seat._

_Miss Prescott's vocal efforts were…dire. In "Look at me I'm Sandra Dee" she has picked a song which is horrible in every sense: It bullies, demeans and, in the case of this reviewer, totally offends. Her intonation was flawed and her diction confused and muddled. One wonders if this was down to all the rehearsal effort being expended in putting down the greater talent of Miss McDonald._

_Miss McDonald's own effort, namely "If you've got it flaunt it" from the musical, The Producers was, again, a well-time bloody nose for her sister-in-law. Casey showed her wit and thick-skin in the minor changes made to the costume and lyrics to have us believe that the singer was a young nubile Chloe Prescott lining herself up to take to the casting couch. It was masterful in its conception and its execution. This was real, quality tele-visual viewing._

_In a linked-in theme, Sunday night's "Green Light" entertainment show was a horrific waste of air time. Miss Prescott, who is obviously close friends with someone at channel five scheduling, has yet again managed to turn a mediocre programme into an appalling Chloe-fest designed to hammer home the fact that Chloe Prescott feels slighted by the inattention of her former "husband" Derek Venturi. She takes a hatchet to the characters of both Mr Venturi and his talented step-sister, accusing them of alleged adulterous incest?_

_The programme was tasteless cheap journalism of the poorly researched kind. Let us not forget people: it was Chloe Prescott who neglected to tell Derek Venturi that she was still legally married at the time of their own nuptials – and last time I looked marrying your step-sister was legal._

_In fact at the end of this weekend's viewing, any right-minded person would be knocking on Mr Venturi's door telling him that even if the rumours and accusations were untrue, he should be ditching the one girl and making hay with the other. Miss McDonald far outshines Miss Prescott for talent, decency and sheer common sense._

_Roll on Round Three!_

Casey had a fit of the giggles.

Lizzie followed suit and emailed the link to the review to everyone in her Contacts list.

Edwin drafted an email to his best friend demanding money with menaces – apparently Jamie had decided Chloe was going to win the competition.

George and Nora rolled their eyes and got an early night.

Robbie took the parentis abstentia opportunity to ring a classmate and invite her for chocolate cake at the establishment formally known as Smelly Nelly's the following day.

And Derek? Derek contacted Tim and asked him to locate the internet reviewer. He had a business proposition for him.


	34. Progress

"_And today on 'Love Me, Love My Secret', we'll be discussing sibling love affairs. In the light of the recent allegations about Hockey star Derek Venturi and his own sister, we ask 'What is incest? And where do you draw the line?'"_

Casey switched the television off. She was doing that a lot lately. It was Friday, just five days since Chloe had released the initial interview where she had branded Derek and Casey as 'freaks'. To date, Casey had counted three televised debates on the "issue", six spontaneous debates during normal news broadcasts, a particularly well-timed episode of ER involving an inter-sibling pregnancy, and so many newspaper and magazine articles she couldn't count.

She couldn't bring herself to look at the internet.

Some of the debates were balanced. Those were the ones that had researched the initial facts and discovered that a) Derek was Casey's _step_-brother not a true sibling b) that meant there was legally nothing wrong with them being together c) they had first met when they were nearly sixteen so they had not been children together d) neither of them had confirmed Chloe's story.

The more sizable number of stories and debates were less researched and the authors clearly had an agenda. It was easier for them to blame the male hockey star than the female supermodel. And Casey…was just the detritus left along the way.

Derek phoned her every night – and sometimes during the day. He still joked and clowned around about it, but she could hear the tension in his voice. He told her some of what he was dealing with on the outside, but she knew he was hiding stuff to protect her.

Casey was finding it hard to deal with…

…and Derek knew. Away from her he was quietly going crazy with worry. He knew _he_ could cope with the rumours, innuendo and just plain bitchiness, but he worried about whether Casey could. They weren't a couple, they were only friends, but he was scared to death that she would distance herself from him just when he was starting to get her back.

This was his ultimate nightmare – and hers.

Their family were supportive. None of them were pretending not to know how they felt about each other now. The sheer frequency of the phone calls between them, and the worry on Derek's face were enough confirmation. A couple of times, Casey phoned Nora or Marti and asked quietly "How is he?"

Friday night Derek was honest with her over the phone.

"I'm worried Casey."  
"I know. I hear it every time you call. Is it really bad? The press and stuff?"  
He sighed. "Princess, I'm not worried about _that_. I'm worried about you."

She sounded surprised. "Why?"

There was a pause. "I'm scared that you'll not be able to cope with this…that you'll pull away again. Sometimes, you sound distracted when I call as though you aren't wholeheartedly there with me. I know I'm not your boyfriend. I know it is different for you, but I'm scared of losing even your friendship Casey. I can't do that again."

Casey sat back in the large armchair in her room and glanced at the picture of the family she had beside the bed. It had all the Venturis lined up so was one of the few pictures of Derek she could get away with having in her room without comment from the cleaning staff.

He had a point.

She did her best to reassure him, but the uncertainty was plain even to her.

Later as she lay in bed, failing to sleep, she pondered the past and remembered life with Derek…and Life without him. Suddenly she knew which she preferred.

Living with Derek wasn't always the easiest option, but vanilla wasn't her favourite ice cream flavour either. She was more of a Rocky Road kind of girl.

* * *

This week, Derek watched the show from the sidelines and attempted to see Casey before she went on. Chloe got to him first.

"Dee Dee!" She exclaimed, ignoring the finality of their last meeting.

"Miss Prescott." He acknowledged coldly.

"Derek." She admonished. "Don't be silly, darling. There's no need to be formal."

"I'm afraid there is." He said, and caught the arm of Luan as she walked past. "Excuse me, would you mind hanging around a second. My lawyer doesn't want me to have any un-chaperoned conversations with Miss Prescott."

"Your lawyer?" Chloe asked.

Derek smiled. "Oh yes. He's going to be in touch with your legal representatives in the next few days. You'll be required to sign the release agreement confirming that you have no legal entitlement to my assets and that you will cease to identify yourself as Chloe Venturi. I'm sure you won't have a problem with that. After all, you wouldn't want to associate yourself with a freak would you? Mud sticks and all that."

"I didn't call you a freak." She protested.

"Chloe. Let's be grown up about this. You labelled my step-sister insane and me an incestuous letch. The entertainment world is falling over itself to run every kind of salacious programming they can get away with in response to your interviews…which incidentally, my legal team will also be talking to yours about."

Chloe opened her mouth to say something but Derek beat her to it.

"Your pre-nup…which your legal team drew up and I reluctantly signed? It has a confidentiality clause in it that states that neither party will broadcast any information regarding the sex lives of either or both of us to the media or anyone likely to pass the information on."  
Chloe huffed. "You're adamant that we aren't married…which makes the pre-nup null and void."  
"No it doesn't. We checked. It states that the confidentiality clauses – and in fact large parts of the pre-nup - are valid even if the marriage never takes place. Something, as I remember, _your_ legal team insisted on."

He glared at her. "You went public about my sex life…I'll see you in court."

Derek strode towards a guy standing over to one side to get away from Chloe. The toned-looking guy he recognised as Casey's dance partner from the earlier rounds.

"Hi." He said, ignoring the blazing eyes of his ex where he had left her. "It's Trevor, isn't it?"  
"Derek Venturi!" Trevor looked down very slightly on Casey's step-brother because he was slightly taller, but his face looked impressed. Trevor was gay and Casey had very good taste in men.

They shook hands and grinned. Trevor nodded towards Chloe. "Trouble?"

"A healthy dose of genuine reality for the reality tv star." Derek answered cheerfully. "Where's Case?"  
"Freaking out in the ladies bathroom." Trevor replied. "She's a bit iffy about her costume."

"Oh? Really?"

"Yeah. But don't fish. You'll have to wait like everyone else." Trevor had his own line in smirks and they were good.

"When's Casey on?"  
"She's up next after this dance."

"And?"

"She'll blow Chloe out of the water."

Derek grinned, and then his smile disappeared. "How is she?"  
"Tense…but she's a fighter especially about the things that count."

Derek frowned. "I know…I just…"

Trevor interrupted. "She thinks you count, Derek. I can tell."

The applause from the judges' assessment of the previous contestant died away and then the stage darkened. A lone trumpet played four notes and some strings sawed in the background before the unmistakable tones of Dinah Washington echoed across the stage.

A shiver ran up Derek's spine as he recognised the tune. He wasn't a big fan of old music but he did like this track. _I'm mad about the boy._

And then he gasped.

Casey had appeared on stage just as the words "I'm mad about the boy" began…and everyone laughed.

And Derek laughed too.

Casey was dancing. A decent routine, plenty of standard jazz steps with a little something to spice them up, but it wasn't as graceful as usual. It was deliberately clumpy, heavy-footed…but perfectly executed with her usual skill.

What caused the laughter was her appearance.

Casey's hair was back-combed into a style akin to someone who had stuck their finger in a power socket. It was sprayed white and black and stuck out around her head like a halo. Her eyes were like a pandas – or more accurately like a zombie's: big black circles making shadows around her lids which were purple and blue - like bruises. Her lips were painted twice their usual size in a blood red, and her skin was chalky white.

But the funniest part about her was her attire…black leggings and a vivid white strait-jacket…the arms left loose.

_Mad about the boy_

_I know it's stupid to be mad about the boy_

_I'm so ashamed of it but must admit the sleepless nights I've had_

_About the boy_

Derek grinned at Trevor. "Let me guess…you're a fan of The Cure? And this is in no way a response to Chloe's little announcement last weekend."

Trevor grinned and whispered close to Derek's ear. "I didn't think it was fair that Casey couldn't respond. I thought this would be a decent way to get everyone to laugh at the suggestion that Casey is insane."

Derek patted him firmly on the back. "I'm glad she has you Trevor. I'm glad she has you."

"She's doing me a favour. Chloe's dance guy dumped me last month. I'm just getting my own back."

They turned back to watch Casey ace the dance routine, and Derek fell in love with her a little more.

_Will it ever cloy_

_This odd diversity of misery and joy_

_I'm feeling quite insane and young again _

_And all because I'm mad about the boy_

And when it was over and the judges positive verdict in, Chloe swished her way onto the stage in the darkness before her dance started and her Dance teacher Maurice was with her. He was dressed in a pink teddy boy suit and Chloe was in a matching pink dress puffed out with white netting, small white ankle socks on her feet and her hair pulled high into a pony tail. Then Buddy Holly began to sing.

_All of my love - all of my kissin' _

_you don't know what you've been a-missin' _

_oh boy - when you're with me - oh boy _

_the world will see that you were meant for me._

* * *

It was only a matter of thirty minutes, but it felt like forever before Casey re-emerged to perform her song.

"What's it going to be this time?" Derek asked as they waited. "Great Balls of Fire?"

Trevor smiled. "No. And it isn't the song we originally picked either. Casey rebelled this morning and insisted on changing the song. Fortunately it was one we'd practised in the first week and so she knows it, but she insisted on choosing her own costume for it too. We were going to do a jokey number again, dress her up as a sort of Lizzie Borden character. Instead…well you can see."

He pointed off to one side where Casey was now standing waiting.

Derek's eyes widened. She was normal again. Hair once again tamed (and freshly washed), make-up normal, and her dress…he recognised!

It was a dress she had worn for a rare night out with him on the island where they used to vacation. It was blue and floaty and reminded him of the sea below his balcony. She was dressed the way she always was on the occasions he dreamt about her: when she was _his_ Casey.

And then she started to sing

…and he didn't care that it was a Carpenters' song

…and he didn't care that it was sentimental and possibly twee.

He knew why she had chosen to sing it straight…and he knew why she had chosen to wear a dress he had bought for her.

_One love in my young life_

_Took me somewhere I had never been_

_And I want to live again, breathe again_

_In the shelter of his brightly woven love song_

_So long I have wanted love to be_

_Sitting just this near to me_

_Now my waiting heart is free_

_Few are the choices we are given_

_The sands of time pass quickly by_

_One dream of my young life_

_Now stands holding out his hand to me_

_Now I can't help but believe that my whole life will be_

_Spent in one love._


	35. Witnesses

For many practical reasons, after the first week when it had been a live transmission there was always a slight delay between the filming of the show and the actual transmission of the show. This was to allow for potential technical problems and over-running. Most of the time, the delay was about an hour. Sometimes the recording over-ran so much it was just a few minutes.

Since the battle between Casey and Chloe had begun, the producers were relieved for other reasons. They figured if anyone committed murder on air the station would probably get shutdown.

Tonight, there was about thirty minutes between the recording ending and the programme being aired.

"What on _earth_ is Casey wearing?" Kendra gasped pointing at the television. "She looks like she just escaped from the loony bin!"

Emily took a potato chip from the bowl on the table. "That, I think is the point. It's a commentary on the media reports about her and Derek. She's poking fun at the accusations."

"So what? Casey's got a sense of humour these days?" Kendra replied cattily.

Amanda rolled her eyes. "Come on Kend, that's unfair. Casey has a sense of humour. Somewhere…"

Sheldan groaned. "I thought girls were supposed to stop being catty when they left high school." He commented.

Sam laughed. "Whatever gave you that idea? I mean just look at Chloe. If that isn't catty…"

Emily shook her head. "That's not just catty…that's cruel."

"But great television." Amanda replied. Kendra agreed.

"Besides, it's their own fault for having a fling with each other. I mean how gross is that?"

Ralph swigged from his beer bottle. "How gross is what?" He asked blankly.

"Casey and Derek sleeping together."

Sam sighed. "They aren't sleeping together, Kendra. Chloe is just making trouble for them. They are good friends but that's all it is. God! I never thought I'd say "Casey and Derek" and "good friends" in the same sentence."

"As far as you know. He's hardly going to shout "I had sex with my sister" from the roof-tops is he?" Kendra pointed out.

Sam grinned. "Seriously. Can you see Casey letting Derek anywhere near her unclothed body?"

Every head in the room looked up.

"Yes!" They all chorused.

Later, Emily joined Sam in his kitchen.

"Thanks for inviting us, Sam. It's been too long since we were all together."

"No problem. With my wife and the kids away it's too quiet in the house. I needed the company."

"You're lucky, you know that. You found your soul-mate quickly."  
"I don't know about soul-mate but she puts up with my crap really well. Your turn will come."  
Emily pulled a face. "Hmmm. Sheldan thinks it already has."

Sam laughed. "He's still interested? Wow! That is commitment!"

"It's not commitment Samuel. It's insanity. It's verging on stalking and you know me, I understand stalking better than most."

"Aw! You never stalked Derek. Now Chloe…she's a stalker."

Emily nodded. "If I was Derek, I'd be upping my security."

"He has. He's also got someone watching Casey…just in case."

"Why? Does he think she's going to start stalking him too?"  
Sam laughed. "No. It's to protect her from Chloe or more importantly, the less sane of Chloe's fans. He's concerned that one of them might take a pot shot at Casey out of love for Chloe."

"God! That's scary!"

"I know."

Emily fidgeted with a dish cloth as she went to mop down the worktops.

"Do you really think they aren't sleeping together?" She asked.

Sam looked thoughtful. "They aren't sleeping together. At least they weren't the last time Derek and I talked." He said confidently.

It had only been a couple of days since he had spoken to his old friend. They had discussed Casey at length – including a long monologue from Derek about how she was his best _female_ friend and that Sam shouldn't get upset if Derek referred to her as one of his best friends because Sam and Casey were equal in his eyes.

Sam had grinned and pointed out that in view of the _closeness_ of Derek's _relationship_ with Casey, maybe he would like to rephrase that. Derek's eyes had widened, he had coughed (apoplexy) and as Sam had got him on his weak flank, proceeded to be rather candid about how he felt about Casey.

But, he didn't confess that he had slept with her.

"They aren't sleeping together." Sam repeated. "But not through lack of trying on Derek's part just lately."

"Really?"

"Be honest, Em. You know how they are together – so blinkered to anyone else around them. Over the years it's only got worse. The closer they've got friendship-wise, the more likely that something will happen. Chloe was Derek's last ditch attempt to convince himself that he didn't want Casey. Chloe never stood a chance."

"I should say "poor thing" but the woman is unhinged."

"Derek sure does pick 'em." Sam agreed. Emily stuck her tongue out at him. "I hope he and Casey get it right this time. They've been dancing around each other for too long."

"I'm worried she'll never just let go and give them a chance."  
"It's a risk, especially in light of the press coverage. She might get up on stage dressed like the bride of Frankenstein, and she might make a joke of Chloe's claim, but you know her as well as I do. She'll be freaking out behind the scenes."

Sheldan appeared at the door. "Hey you two. She's coming back on in a minute."

* * *

"Oh my god! You made me jump!" Casey exclaimed her face wide with shock. "How on earth did you get in here?"  
Derek grinned from the bed where he was reclining (fully clothed). He held up the little plastic rectangle. "Your spare room key. I lifted it last Saturday." He confessed. "I didn't want to hang around in the corridor waiting for you this time."  
Casey locked her bedroom door from the inside and crossed to the bed. "Did anyone see you?" She asked. Her voice was still slightly shaky from the shock of seeing him, and nerves about his reaction to her thinly-veiled declaration of love.

"No. Chloe was holding court in the foyer complaining that songs written and performed in the late 60s but not released until 1971 don't count as being within the 1940-1970 range for Golden Oldies. She wants you disqualified."

Casey snorted delicately, as she kicked off her shoes. "Tough. We checked before we submitted it."

Derek held out a hand to her and she climbed up beside him.

They sat there staring at each other carefully.

"Well?" Casey said nervously pulling at the covers beside her.

"I got your "message"." He answered casually, referring to her song.

"And?" She bit her lip.

"Carpenters? Couldn't you have made it more rock 'n' roll? Maybe Led Zepplin or The Stones." He teased.

"Do I look like a gravel-voiced rocker?"

"Nah. More like Mama Cass."

Casey's eyes widened at the mention of the late, larger-than-life singer.

"You're a moron, Venturi!" She raised her elbow to nudge him, but he caught it. Derek smiled warmly, slid his hand down her forearm in a way that sent shivers up her spine and laced his fingers in hers. He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingertips. Casey groaned in submission and he chuckled.

"You're frustrating, overly-organised and ridiculously sensitive." He pointed out whilst kissing her wrist.

Casey snorted.

"You're an egotistical jerk who has spent a decade and a half dis-organising my life."

"Really? You hate me because I make a mess?" Derek curved an eyebrow upwards an amused look on his face.  
"I didn't say I hate you." Casey backtracked; caught in the gaze he was firing her way.

"No. You didn't, did you?" He smirked and combed her hair with his fingers. "Go out with me." He said softly.

"No." She said calmly.

He frowned in confusion and Casey chuckled and stroked the side of his face. "No." leaning close she whispered "Not until I get sprung from here." She kissed his cheek which meant he could smell her freshly washed hair, and the scent that was uniquely hers.

Derek groaned himself and then grabbing Casey rolled them both over until she was underneath him.

"You're a tease, McDonald." He announced, his eyes sparkling at her.

"You're a sore loser."

"Who said I lost? From where I'm looking I came out on top…literally."

"Ha ha."

There was a pause where he looked down at her seriously as though trying to work out how to put his current feelings into words. Derek didn't like "feelings" and he liked talking about them even less.

But this was Casey, and he'd been hiding his "feelings" for her for a long time…too long.

"Don't." He said. "We've bantered enough."

She nodded and Derek kissed her briefly. At first she just let him, and then she responded. Casey stretched her arms around his neck and let her fingers play with the hair at the back of his head.

They gazed at each other.

"I love you." They blurted simultaneously - and then laughed.

"Good." Derek proclaimed.

"Great minds and all that." Casey confirmed.

Derek pulled back. "What's with the change of heart?" He asked. "Not that I'm complaining or anything."

Casey sighed and sat up beside him. She scooted back on the bed and leaned against the headboard. Derek did likewise and she took his hand in her own.

"It was two things really and both of them involve me over-thinking." She smirked at him. "So next time you feel the urge to criticise it, think again."

"Go on."

"I've spent lots of time avoiding television programmes and newspapers this week. It was frustrating and upsetting. They were all so negative about us, and at the start I thought that was what was upsetting me. But then I realised I was more upset about how inaccurate the programmes were than their verdicts. I didn't care what they thought of our relationship but I did care that they got all the facts wrong.

Their reaction didn't scare me anymore. They can write what they like…just so long as the facts are right."

Derek nodded. "And the other reason?"

"I can't keep doing this coming together-moving apart business. I decided if we aren't going to be together we need to sever the connection properly." She met his concerned eyes. "When I started to think about us in those terms I realised I couldn't do that – sever _all_ ties…not now…not yet." She glanced away for a moment and then grinned. "Of course, when this is old and faded things will be different. Then it will be me peeing you off in the newspapers and you'll find some other girl to make headlines with. But for now…"

"…it won't get old and faded, Casey. This has lasted thirteen years, I've had more girls throw themselves at me than any guy could possibly dream of, and some of them I've actually reciprocated with. But it's always been you. It hasn't faded yet."

"Who knows, Derek? Maybe _I'll_ dump _you_." She smirked. "We've been through a lot together: Shared a lot, argued a lot, and experienced a lot together."

Casey turned towards him and their hands knitted together, their legs entwined. She lifted one hand and rubbed her thumb along his bottom lip. He kissed it.

She locked eyes with him. "But there is one thing we haven't done. "We've never really given _us_ a try, and now I think I'm ready to."

* * *

"Carpenters?" Amanda snorted. "Of all the golden oldies she could have picked, she picked Carpenters?"

"I've a good mind to complain." Kendra agreed. "Casey may have won but I mean even Chloe's abysmal diner dancing was better than Casey singing Carpenters."  
Emily caught Sam's eye and they grinned.

"Oh I don't know." He said. "I think the song served Casey's purpose really well."

"Sure…If she wanted to look like Little Miss Virginal." Kendra pouted.

Ralph interjected. "She'd have looked stunning as Tina Turner."

The others in the room stared at him.

"What?"

"Tina Turner is black."

"So?" Ralph sighed. "Oh…okay. Maybe Cher."

"You wanted her to get up and sing "Gypsies, tramps and thieves?"!" Amanda was surprised.

Ralph looked up. "She couldn't babe. That was 1971. Strictly speaking, so was "One Love" but I suppose they allowed it because it was written and performed much earlier than it was released."

Sam's jaw dropped. "How the hell do you know that?"

Ralph shrugged. "I like Richard Carpenter's suits. Now there was a man with style."

* * *

Derek was in a good place right now. Casey, rather than call a halt to their unconventional friendship as he had anticipated, was currently lying in his arms. After their declarations, she had changed into her pyjamas and brushed her teeth, and they were lying together in her bed: Casey under the covers, Derek on top of them. They had been talking in soft whispers for nearly an hour, punctuating the conversation every now and then with their own unique blend of argumentative banter – followed by deep kisses and equally deep sighs.

He knew he was morphing into one of his own teenage nightmares – pussy-whipped and sentimental, but he didn't care. Holding Casey like this was something he had been thinking of for more years than he would like to admit to, and it had been worse since that never to be forgotten night.

Derek supposed that his teenaged self would appreciate this more if they were naked, and yes, he had to own that he was thinking of sex on and off during the evening. But, he wasn't about to ruin _this_ by suggesting _that_. Not yet.

Instead, he just cuddled her close

"Stay for a bit?" Casey asked against his neck.

"Till you throw me out." He said kissing her head.

Casey frowned and lifted her head. "How are you going to escape _this_ week? I think the dogs might be forewarned after last week."

Derek shrugged. "I'll think of something." He said, wondering how Casey would react if he took his pants off. They were currently digging into him.

She sat up. "You mean you came here with no thought of how you were going to get away again?"

He shrugged again, using the increased distance as an opportunity to adjust the offending button. It didn't help. "I wanted to see you. I thought if I didn't come and see you that you'd walk away again."

"Der-ek! What on earth am I going to do with you? You could be stuck here now."

_Fuck it! _He smirked and got out of bed. "Great! I'll just get ready for bed then." He announced, undoing his pants, dropping them and stepping out. He reached for the bottom of his shirt and started undoing buttons. _Might as well._

Casey slumped back against the headboard in defeat. "So your week is clear?" She asked, raising both eyebrows whilst trying to ignore his body as he slipped off the shirt. She wasn't about to stop him. He was wearing some close fitting jersey boxer shorts and it had been a while since she had seen him with so few clothes. Her memory provided her with a graphic shot of what he would look like without the boxers.

She coughed. "Nowhere to be?"

He shook his head and ran his finger around the waistband of the boxers where the elastic had cut into him slightly. The gesture was incredibly distracting for Casey.

"No practices? No games?" Casey fought to stay on track.

"Not till Wednesday." Derek grinned broadly. He rather liked the idea of staying the whole week in Casey's room even though he knew it probably wasn't going to happen. Winding Casey up about it was good though. He climbed back into bed and shuffled closer to her.

Casey backed up away from him.

"How am I supposed to feed you?" She asked.

"Room service." He said.

"Derek, you eat like a horse. If I order enough food for both of us someone is going to notice."

"I'll just snack on you." He grinned and pounced on her, his eyes full of fun.

The action caused her to squeal.

"Der-ek!"

Which was right about the time there was a knock on the door.


	36. Coming In From the Cold

Casey and Derek froze mid-embrace as the person at the door knocked again.

Derek looked down at Casey pinned beneath him, his tight-fitting shorts and otherwise naked body pressed up against her conservative, but silky pyjamas. He could feel the rise and fall of her chest against his own and he wanted to damn the person on the other side of the door to hell.

"Casey!" A voice called. "It's me. Can I talk to you?"

Casey's eyes widened and she shoved Derek to one side.

"One second." She called. "I'm…erm…watching TV. Let me switch it off and…erm…I'll be right with you."

_Who is it?_ Derek mouthed as Casey flapped at him to move off the bed.

"Luan." She hissed. "I need to speak to her. She's very protective of me. If I don't open the door and prove I'm ok she'll get the skeleton key and let herself in. You need to hide."

"Where? The bathroom?"

"The lock's broken." Casey hissed. "I wouldn't be able to stop her coming in."

Derek looked around the room. The wardrobe looked too short and the bed was too low to the floor.

Where could he go?

Before he came to a conclusion, Luan called again. Casey grabbed Derek, opened the window and shoved him outside onto the balcony.

She locked the window behind her and pulled the drapes shut.

Taking a deep breath, Casey combed her fingers through her hair so that it didn't look as though Derek had spent the last hour running _his_ fingers through it. And then she opened the door.

"Sorry. I was getting ready for bed with the TV on." She said to the floor as she swung the door open, raising her eyes to look at Luan as she did so.

And then she did a double take.

In front of her stood Luan as expected, but behind her, camera slung on shoulder was Kevin aka Camera Five and with him his allotted reporter, "Rabid" Rita, the scourge of the entertainment world…an interviewer renowned for digging and dishing.

_Holy Sh…Something-Derek-would-say_!

"Hi Casey. Sorry about this." Luan looked majorly apologetic. "I know it's late but erm…Rita was hoping that…"

The woman concerned rolled her eyes. "You're up, McDonald! It's time for you to dish on Derek." Rita said, pushing her way into the room. "I have to leave in the morning so it will need to be done now."

With that, she was firmly ensconced in Casey's room.

Casey tried not to let the panic show on her face as she dashed further into the room behind the reporter. She moved quickly in front of the drapes as a sort of ineffective guard.

_Please let Derek stay quiet. Please let Derek stay quiet. I'll start going to church and even go to confessional…if you just keep Derek quiet._

As she stood there waiting for the axe to fall, Casey glanced around her room looking for things that were out of place: The bed was mussed up but there was nothing incriminating; her phone with its locked keypad was on the table; her clothes were neatly folded on her vanity unit; and there were more clothes in a heap on floor by the bed…Casey frowned.

What were _they_ doing there?

_Oh no!_...Derek's clothes. She remembered his mini-strip-tease and her heart rate sped up for all the wrong reasons.

She was in her room, in her pyjamas with one of the most aggressive entertainment reporters in the Northern Americas and her step-brother's discarded clothes were lying in a pile beside her bed!

Casey walked away from the window along the wall beside the bed. She perched herself (one buttock only) on the edge and leaned "casually" on one hand, her left foot scraping Derek's clothes towards the bed and trying to wedge them underneath. The grin on her face was forced.

"Where do you want me?" She spat out, her toes failing in their job because there was almost no gap under the bed. Casey kicked her heel backwards but the clothes still wouldn't budge.

Rita gave the cameraman a look. His eyes swept around the room taking in all the furniture and possible backgrounds. Fortunately, they were still near the bedroom door and couldn't see much beyond the bed.

"How about near the vanity?" Rita suggested.

The cameraman turned to look to where Rita was pointing and for a second their eyes were directed away from Casey. Quick as a flash, Casey bent down scooped up the clothing and stuffed it under her pillow. As she turned around, Luan was staring at her.

_What's going on?_ Paul's niece mouthed.

_Tell you later._ Casey replied soundlessly.

Rita and the cameraman didn't notice.

"Can't do the vanity." Kevin said. "Too much reflection from the mirror."

"Erm…wouldn't this be easier to do downstairs? There's more room."

"And have every other hack reporter in the state hear my questions and your answers? I think not. We'll do it here."

"Perhaps I should change? If you could just step out for a moment…"  
"The pyjamas are fine. It makes it look more intimate. Like you're sharing your bedroom secrets with us. It's a nice touch."

_I'll be sharing my bedroom secrets in a minute…hell! How long is this going to take?_

While Casey was sharing this little internal monologue, she was walking across her room, looking for other signs of Derek's presence in her room. As she passed the window, she heard a tapping noise. She turned her back on the window abruptly, lifted her foot and jammed it hard backwards through the drapes until it made contact with the wooden frame.

The tapping noise stopped.

"Excellent idea!" Rita announced. "We'll place you in front of the drapes. They make a nice backdrop." The blood ran from Casey's face.

If Derek tried to come back into the room the camera would be facing right at him.

Kevin agreed to the shot and placed two chairs in front of the drapes. They were facing each other, and Casey would be sitting at an angle to the drapes.

"Sit…please." Rita asked, making it sound more like an order than an invitation. Casey stood her ground.

"No."

"Miss McDonald. I have the producer's permission for this interview, and your agent authorised it."

"She did?" Casey made a mental note to chew Angela out in the morning. How dare she agree to this without a warning!

"Yes. So I'd like to get on with it so that I can go home."

Casey took a deep breath. "Okay. But I want…" Her imagination failed her.

"…make up!" Luan announced. "Casey needs her make-up touching up. She looks a little mussed."

"Yes!" Casey blurted. "Make up! I need make-up. And Luan can help me." She said, dragging the latter into the bathroom and slamming the door shut.

Once inside, they stopped and looked at each other.

"Casey." Luan started very quietly. "What the _hell_ is going on? You're acting like a chicken with its head cut off."

Her charge shrugged and mumbled. "Derek-is-on-my-balcony."

"Derek is what?" Luan said, slightly louder than Casey liked.

"Sssshh! When you knocked, Derek was here."

"Derek?" Luan gaped. "Was here?" She frowned. "Where is he now?"

"On my balcony." Casey whispered.

Luan was quiet for a moment.

"Casey, you do realise that Gossip Gimp herself is out there just itching to find out all your dirty little secrets don't you? With a cameraman!"

"I know. And my dirty little secret is freezing his be-jingers less than five feet away."

"His be-jingers?"

"Technically he might be almost naked."

"Almost?" Luan asked with a sinking feeling.

"He's wearing boxers." Casey started. "…tight ones…slate grey…soft…"

Luan snapped her fingers in front of Casey's eyes.

"Mind on the situation at hand, girl." She grinned. "We can talk "lunch boxes" later. Let's get some war paint on and then we can get rid of Miss Skeeter and her "Quick-Quotes Quills."

Casey grinned. "You're a Potter fan?"

"Oh yes! Uncle Paul bought me my first book when I was in junior high and I've been in love since." She smiled. "He told me that one of his students had recommended it to him as a birthday present for me."

Casey chuckled. "That was me. He was panicking because you were a book worm and he was used to boys who played computer games all the time, he had no idea what to get you."

"Well, thank you. I have you to thank for the obsession!"

A few moments later, Casey opened the door to the bathroom just in time to hear Kevin announce that he was going for a smoke on the balcony and to call him when someone was ready to make an effing interview.

"No!" Luan screeched, launching herself across the distance. "You can't smoke out there. I…erm…have asthma!" She coughed unrealistically, and Casey groaned.

But Kevin didn't notice. He cursed and put the cigarettes away.

* * *

"Miss McDonald. Firstly, can I say congratulations on another victory? The audience votes are in and you've done it again."

Casey smiled nervously. "Thank you."

"Interesting choice of music. Or rather should I say an interesting music/costume combination?"

"Trevor has a singular mind for choreography and playing dress up."

"So you have no influence on the decisions?" Pointed look.

Casey picked at the fabric covering her knees. "I wouldn't say _no_ choice. I mean if I think it passes my own personal boundaries then I would say something. They would listen."

"You endorse the messages in each performance?"

Casey paused. "Messages?" She gave Rita her best _blank_ look. Rita wasn't having any of it.

"Casey, Casey, Casey…" Rita tripled Casey's name.

"Rita, Rita, Rita..." Casey interrupted. "I'm here to dance and sing. If I wanted to say something, I'd just do it. I don't, if you'll forgive the pun, need to make a song and dance about it."

"Come now… "Mad about the boy"? After Miss Prescott gave an interview allegedly implying you are obsessive about Derek Venturi."

"Trevor likes The Cure. We were worried that performing the dance straight would make it too similar to my first dance. Plus, we wanted to inject humour into our routines. I think it achieved that."  
"It had nothing to do with Miss Prescott's accusations?"

"Please. I hardly know Miss Prescott and she certainly doesn't know me." Casey fought to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

"Really? What about "If you've got it flaunt it"? It was a very raunchy dress and the lyrics were…"

"I'm no Sandra Dee."

"But that _was_ a dig at Miss Prescott?"  
Casey shrugged. "Everybody has weak moments. That was one of mine. Endof."

A phone began to ring somewhere in the room. Kevin looks daggers at Casey.

"Mine's on quiet." She said.

"So's mine." They all repeated, and then Casey realised it must be coming from Derek's pants under her pillow. Her eyes met Luan's.

Luan laughed nervously. "I do apologise. It's this awful hotel. It has weird acoustics and you can hear all sorts of strange noises. It will be the plumbing carrying the noise of someone else's phone ringing.

"I know. I overheard two of the waiters planning a rendezvous in a cleaning closet last week." Casey said. Luan's face became questioning. Casey shook her head.

The ringing stopped.

Rita, sensing that they weren't getting anywhere, changed tack.

"Tell me about Derek Venturi."  
"5ft 11, brown hair, brown eyes, over-inflated ego. Plays hockey."

"He's your step-brother."

"That's kind of what happens when your mom marries a guy who already has kids."

"And this happened when you were fifteen?"  
"This is all a matter of public record."

"But public record is all so cold and impersonal. I want the warm under-glow of familial love."

"Familial _what?_"

Rita raised her eyebrows.

Casey sighed. "Derek is a friend. We used to hate each other, now we don't."

"Do you find him attractive?"

"I'm sorry?" Casey gasped.

"Do you find him attractive?"  
"Do you?" Casey fired back and then relented – slightly. "Do I find him attractive? Come on. No one would believe me if I said no. I do have a pulse." She leaned forward to sip the glass of water Luan had provided for her.

"When did you last see him?"

Casey choked.

"Excuse me." She spluttered. "Wrong way."

Rita waited for the water to clear from Casey's throat.

"When did you last see him?" She repeated.

"Tonight." Casey was honest. By the door she could see a look of shock on Luan's face.

"Tonight?" Rita beamed. "I wasn't aware that he was here tonight."  
_Closer than you might think._ Casey added silently.

"He was watching the performances from the sidelines." Casey saw Luan relax. "He was invited."

"By you?"

"By the producers."

"Who is he voting for?" Casey knew what Rita wanted her to say. She wanted Casey to say that he would choose between his sister and his wife; to admit that there had been something between them – that was still something between them.

Casey smiled. "He'll probably vote for Carlos. Derek's always had a thing for Freddie Mercury."

"Miss McDonald…are you implying that Derek is…gay?"

Casey snorted. "That would put the cat among the pigeons wouldn't it? Of course not! He just likes rock music and there are plenty of women who can attest to that."

"So now you are implying he sleeps around."

"No. I'm implying there are lots of women who know he likes rock."

"Has he slept with you?"

Casey stared at her.

"Come on. It's a valid question."

"One I am not dignifying with an answer."

"Why? Because you are ashamed of the answer – or you don't want to admit to the answer?"

Casey shrugged. "He could have slept with Mother Theresa and I still wouldn't tell you." She smiled sweetly and stood up. "And you just terminated our interview. Please leave."

Rita looked annoyed but even she must have realised she had overstepped the mark because she did stand up.

"I'd like to interview you again, Miss McDonald."

"I'm sure you would. You'll have to talk to my agent about that."

Rita smiled sweetly – and totally without sincerity.

"Before I go, I'll just take a look out of that fantastic balcony I know you have. I was admiring the balconies earlier in the daylight and Miss Greeby informs me that you are lucky enough to have one."

And with that, Rita opened the drapes and unlocked the door.

Casey winced and waited for the cry of delight…but none came.

"He's not there." Luan hissed. "You can look."

Casey did so and the balcony was empty.

* * *

It took a couple of minutes to get Rita and Kevin out of the door, and Luan all-but frog-marched them in the end. As soon as the door closed behind them, Casey rushed back onto the balcony and leaned over looking for Derek.

"Derek!" She hissed.

"M-move out-t-t the f-f-fucking way!" A voice called.

She did as she was told and a head appeared over the balustrade. A moment later, he was standing shivering at her feet, his skin almost the colour of his shorts. Casey pulled him indoors and propelled him towards the bed.

"W-w-what took you so long?" Derek asked, rolling into the comforter shaking.  
"It wasn't just Luan at the door." Casey explained as she went to boil a kettle. Derek needed a hot drink, stat.

"Wh-who?" He asked, his teeth chattering.

"'Rabid Rita'" Casey said by way of explanation.

"Fuck!" Derek got the point.

"She insisted on doing an interview. I nearly died when you started tapping on the glass."

"I thought I was g-g-oing t-t- f-f-freeze my balls out there."

Casey moved back to the bed and climbed in while she waited for the kettle to boil. Pulling him into her arms, she sighed. "I'm sorry. I got rid of them as soon as I could."

He clung to her, and his skin was so cold it was like hugging a bag of peas. She kissed his shoulder and her lips chilled instantly.

There was a knock at the door. Casey involuntarily glanced towards the balcony.

"Ffforget itt C-c-casey. I'm not going out again."

She chuckled and climbed out of bed, but she barely opened the door an inch.

"Is he okay?" It was Luan.

"Freezing. I need to warm him up."

Luan grinned. "I'm sure you'll manage that."

"You can help." Casey said and they both giggled. "I meant, can you get some soup and a sandwich from the kitchens? I've got the kettle on. If I know Derek food is the only thing that will sort this."

"Sure. Back in a bit."

"F-f-food isn't the only thing." Derek said in amusement from the bed.

"Oh?"

He looked her up and down suggestively. Casey rolled her eyes and started to make the tea.

Luan returned with the food and then disappeared for the night leaving Derek to his improvised meal – and hot water bottle.

He was finishing off the sandwich when, still shivering with the cold he watched transfixed as Casey started stripping off her clothes.

"What are you doing?" He asked, his teeth chattering slightly as he sipped at his second hot drink.

"I'm stripping off." Casey said, finally removing her pyjama top to reveal she was wearing nothing underneath.

"Princess…erm…I'm not complaining and I'm certainly up for sharing body warmth but…why now?" He cursed himself for talking while there was a very beautiful naked woman in front of him. _His_ naked woman.

Casey stomped over to the bed in a temper.

"We're going to have sex." She announced.

Derek choked. "We are?"

"Yes." She said firmly. "If I'm going to go through the stress of the last half an hour I'm going to make sure I'm guilty of _something_!"


	37. Things That Go Bump in the Night

"It's getting to be a bit of a habit with you, isn't it?" Casey asked in the early hours, idly running a finger down Derek's naked back from her position underneath him.

"What is?" He smirked down at her, their faces so close he had to pull back to focus.

"Hanging around in the freezing cold outside my bedroom window with very little on. This is the second time."

He chuckled and dropped his head to kiss her neck. "At least this time you were willing to share your body warmth…repeatedly. Last time you were so far away from me in the bed you nearly fell off." He nuzzled the skin gently with his nose.

"Hmmm." Casey murmured distracted…again.

Derek lifted his head and began kissing her mouth purposefully.

She groaned and all resistance packed up and left.

A while later and definitely feeling warmer Derek was the one running fingers up Casey's naked back while she cuddled into his side.

"Does this mean that I'll actually get to wake up beside you in the morning?" He asked.

Casey groaned. "Don't drag that up, Derek. You know why I made the decision to run away."

"Doesn't mean I agreed with it."

"I know."

"Besides, this is your bed." He mused. "Maybe you'll wake up and I won't be here."

Casey jerked her head up to look at him.

"Joke." He said lamely.

"Not funny Derek."

"Sorry." He kissed her nose. "I find it very hard to be serious around you."

"I noticed."

"I guess this means we're dating?"

Casey chuckled. "What makes you think I've made up my mind?"

"Stop teasing. You're mine and you know it."

"Oh really? Did I miss the laundry label on my ass or something?"

"I don't know about your ass but there's definitely something written on your…other lumps."

"Lumps?"

"You know…"

"No. I don't. Was that you using some male euphemism for my breasts?" Casey didn't sound impressed.  
"I couldn't possibly say."

"I was right about you. You are a Neanderthal." She dismissed his attempts to cover up.

"Because I have an instinctive need for you?"  
Casey snorted. "Because when faced with a naked woman you get all territorial and possessive."

"Only you."

"I'm convenient."

Derek laughed loudly. "Casey, you are many things, my love, but convenient is not one of them."

Casey huffed. "Lumps!"

* * *

Casey was asleep when the next knock on the door happened. Derek sighed and climbed out of bed, naked. He didn't want to wake Casey so he couldn't let the banging noise continue. At the last minute, he grabbed Casey's dressing gown and wrapped himself in it, then peeked through the peep hole and saw that it was Luan. Figuring that she was already in on Casey's clandestine visitor, he reasoned it was safe to open the door.

"Very stylish." Luan commented on the pale pink floral Thai silk he was wrapped in. "Give us a twirl."

"Ha ha. To what do we owe this honour?" Derek asked, pulling her into the room with a finger to his lips and a jerk of his head towards Casey.

Luan grinned. "I just thought I'd enquire as to how you were planning on escaping this place. Do you have a plan?"

"Not yet. I'll figure something out. Or I'll just stay."  
"Don't you have practice or a game or something this week? You can't stay here." She pointed out.

"I know." Derek sighed. "Casey's already been through this with me…why? You got a suggestion?"

Luan folded her arms. "Yes. As a matter of fact I have. I can smuggle you out."  
"How?"  
Luan tapped her nose. "Are you interested?"  
Derek glanced at Casey. He nodded reluctantly. He didn't actually want to leave her so soon after their…reunion, but Luan was right. He needed to get back into the real world so that he could sort all the crap out before Casey emerged into a blaze of publicity. "Yes."  
"Okay. I'll be back for you in ten minutes. Get dressed." She too glanced at Casey's sleeping form. "Say your goodbyes - quickly. I'll see you soon." And with that, she was gone.

Derek closed the door after her and walked over to the bed.

"Casey. Wake up honey."  
"Not again, Derek. I'm tired." She moaned batting him away with her hand.

Derek laughed. "Tempting though you are sweetheart, I wasn't after sex. I need to talk to you."  
Casey sat up. "Oh?"  
"Luan was just here. She says she can smuggle me out without the cameras seeing me. Do I trust her?"

Casey nodded.

"Are you sure?" Derek asked. "You've only known her a few weeks."

"Yes. But she's Paul's niece."

"Paul?"

"Greeby."

"You're shitting me?"

Casey pulled a face. "Nice Derek." She reproved. He smirked and kissed her. "How is she going to do it?"

"I don't know." He admitted. "She said she would be back in ten minutes."

"You'd better get dressed then. You'll have to shower at home."  
"That's a pity. I was looking forward to lathering you down." Derek ran a hand up Casey's arm. She rolled her eyes but lifted her face for the kiss.

"You're incorrigible." She mock-complained.

"I'm sure I am. I'm just not sure what that means." Derek smirked but then his face fell. "I'm sorry. I honestly didn't plan on leaving."

"I know. But it's for the best. You can't stay here all week."

"I'd have tried. I'm not ready to walk out the door."

"You have to. I'll still be here on Saturday."  
"So will I. I'll plan things a bit better and make sure I have an exit strategy lined up."

Casey leaned forward and kissed his mouth. "You're Derek Venturi. You always have an exit strategy."

They chuckled together and then Derek climbed off the bed to get changed. Casey watched unashamedly as he dropped her robe and walked around the room naked to reclaim his clothed from the chair they had tossed them earlier.

"I'll miss you." Casey said wistfully. Derek chuckled.

"I bet you will." He commented deliberately fastening his zipper.

"Moron."

"Uptight-ass."

Dressed, Derek resumed his seat beside her. "Good luck on Saturday. Any idea what you'll sing and dance to?"  
Casey shook her head. "I'm sick of reacting to Chloe, though. I think I'm just going to pick what I want this time. Any requests?"

Derek grinned. "Surprise me."

Casey knelt up and slid her fingers into his hair. "That sounds like a challenge, Venturi." She said, her eyes flashing.

"Probably because it is, McDonald." He smirked back.

"Always the challenge." She murmured against his lips.

"Always the passion." He whispered back.

Casey sighed, her forehead now resting against Derek's. "Are you sure you have to go, _now_?"

There was a knock at the door. Derek kissed her and stood up. "Yup."

"What do I get if I win our challenge?" Casey asked, holding onto his hand tightly.

"I'll take you to our island for a month."

"And if you win?"  
"We'll never come back."

"Tempting to throw the competition, but as it's chemical with us…I have to win."

Derek laughed and kissed her for a final time. "I love you."

Casey grinned back. "I love you too."

* * *

Luan's "escape" route was boringly simple. She took him down the fire escape, out the fire door and through the shrubbery to her car which was parked in the lot closest to Casey's room and in an area not overlooked by windows from the hotel. Once there, she let him in to the vehicle trunk.

It was a long bumpy ride until they were past the little encampment the press had built outside of the grounds. When Derek emerged from the trunk into the beginnings of daylight, he was slightly green.

"Thanks." He said. "I think."

Luan grinned. "No pain, no gain."

Derek gave her a look. "You think being in love with Casey McDonald is _easy_?"

"Evidently not." She beamed. "Uncle Paul just lost a bet with me."

"Oh?"  
"I told him I thought your relationship was a two-way street. He wasn't convinced. It's nice to get one over on him for a change."  
"Glad to be of service."

Luan smiled. "Are you staying Saturday night too?"  
"I hope so."

"Then I'll park round the back again. Same time? Same place?"  
"You're a star!"

She chuckled. "No. You and Casey are the stars." Her face became serious. "I like Casey. She's a nice person. Mis-guided sometimes but nice all the same. You hurt her…" her voice gave warning even without words.  
"Agreed."

Derek wrapped himself up tightly in his coat.

"I'd best go. I parked my car in a less than ideal parking lot. It's probably jacked up on bricks by now."

* * *

"How about 'Right said Fred'?" Trevor suggested after breakfast on Sunday.

Harriet snorted. "You're channelling your camp side again. Casey is not shaving her hair and wearing a string vest. Besides, I don't think infantile pop counts as MOBO."

Trevor pouted but then the door opened and Casey's head appeared around it.

"I'm not reacting to Chloe this week." Casey said entering the room. She had a spring in her step which was new and two spots of colour in her cheeks. "I have a different agenda."

Trevor and Harriet looked up. "Oh?"  
"I've been set a challenge…by Derek." Casey's colour grew as she mentioned the man who had left her bed only a few short hours previously, leaving her in a delicious state of flustered.

Trevor grinned. "Which was?"

"He wants me to surprise him. I need something outside of my comfort zone."

Harriet laughed. "So far everything you've performed has been outside of your comfort zone."

"I know. Which is why I want you to come up with something…sensational. Something completely unrelated to Chloe which will blow him out of the water. What's the theme again?"  
"MOBO. Music of Black Origin. It's about the music genres which have their origins in black ancestry. Everything from gospel, through blues and soul to hip hop."

"Hip hop?" Casey queried. "Has anyone ever performed a hip hop routine?"  
Trevor shook his head. "Previous celebrities have done soul mainly. What about you? Ever performed hip hop?"  
"God no!" Casey exclaimed.

"Well maybe hip-hop or something similar might be the ideal genre."

Casey shook her head. "I can't sing like that."  
"Okay. Then we'll do the hip-hop for the dance and something more normal for the singing. Now we just have to choose what."

They met again later on Sunday afternoon with a selection of music for Casey to listen to - or watch as some tracks Trevor had found the DVDs for. Casey picked the third song and the fifth dance track.

"Brave." Harriet commented.

"It's a nice song, I like it."

"I wasn't talking about the song." Her singing coach grinned. "I was talking about the dance track."

* * *

_**Stars with Hearts (Saturday)**_

_And so we come to the highlight of the week, Stars with Hearts (Saturday) and the drama within. What a week it had been for Camp Venturi! _

_What started out with the vitriolic on-air attack by Chloe Prescott on her former "spouse" and his step-sister ended with a spectacular musical reply from the aforementioned sister, and some witty verbal interview responses from Mr Venturi which completely failed to answer the questions with any degree of satisfaction. _

_You know a little bird tells me that Miss Prescott's claims and revelations were not quite as outrageous as you might believe. Despite her strait-jacket and wild hair, Miss McDonald is perfectly sane and responsible belying Miss Prescott's claims – however apparently Casey McDonald _is_ also closer to Mr Venturi than you might expect even a best friend to be- allegedly. _

_Likewise, rumours of Mr Venturi's "blindness" when it comes to Miss McDonald's faults are exaggerated and his denial of the alleged bedroom antics may be a question of semantics rather than a refutation of facts._

_Either way, Casey's fantastic rendition of "Mad about the Boy" had me laughing hysterically. In contrast, her strait-laced version of Carpenter's "One Love" was second only to Karen's own performance in my own humble…gay…opinion._

_I have not changed my opinions of the principals in this TV/Life soap. Except to say that I think Derek has the situation in hand which means my own attempts to embrace heterosexuality with Miss McDonald at my side have failed at the first. _

_Don't forget to watch this week when the music will be Music of Black Origin. Now _that_ is a car crash waiting to happen._

_

* * *

_

**AN: Sorry for the delay. I have a head cold which has limited my mental capacities this week. Will update when I can.**


	38. Blues and Tunes

The noise was deafening in the arena, but Derek swore he could still hear the cheers of his family from the benches. Certainly, when he looked across at them they were smiling and he waved his stick in the air in greeting, enjoying the adulation in a way he hadn't ever before.

He had thought he had lost this; the ability to perform on the ice. He had thought this dream was over. It was a relief to find that it wasn't.

The slide (no pun intended) in his on-ice performance had initially started when Casey walked away from his bed that first time, but he had managed to control the deterioration – because he thought that she still cared about him and was doing it for both of them. Even when Casey let him marry Chloe, he still managed to keep it together on the ice; determination keeping him going.

But when Casey had left him a second time because of his "freak" comment, and he thought she was gone for good…that had been hard to come back from.

The improvement had begun as soon as he realised there was a possibility of her coming back to him. In that first game, he had tasted relief.

Now, faced with a future where she was not only going to be present, but also his more than willing partner…his performance soared in line with his ego.

After spending Saturday night with Casey, he returned home and persuaded the coach to let him join the practice sessions full-time. His subsequent on-ice performance had been so stellar that the coach had lost no time in confirming his place on the team.

"Whatever it is, Venturi, keep doing it." The older man insisted.

"I fully intend to." Derek replied with a smirk, almost wishing that Casey could hear the comment for the roll of eyes he knew she would wear.

After the mid-week game, the girl concerned called him as he was on his way from the locker room to the press call, letting him know she had been watching the game in her hotel.

"Wow Derek!" She started. "I don't think you've ever played like that before. I'm impressed."

"Yeah well. Different people have different pre-game rituals which improve their performance. Evidently, mine is incest."

"Ha ha. You're such a wit."

Derek smirked as he punched a door open and walked towards the stairs. "Sorry was that you acknowledging my talents?"  
"The only talent you have Derek is for falling on your feet."  
"You know, sweetheart, I'm sure you were appreciative of some of my other talents on Saturday." His voice had dropped to a murmur, but Casey heard every word.

"Okay. I'll admit it." She sighed. "We're very…compatible."

"I can remember a time when you would die rather than admit that."  
"That was a different sort of compatible, Derek. Teenaged Casey was…"

"…a prude." He completed.

"Well I'm not a prude now."  
"No. You aren't. I didn't know you knew some of the words you _gasped_ on Saturday."

"I've been around hockey players too long Derek."  
"Oh?" He frowned. "What other hockey players have been leading you astray?"  
"Only the ones you know about."

"That's half of Canada. Just exactly how _experienced_ are you?"

"Only you, Idiot. You know that."

"Do I?"  
"Derek, don't you think it's a little hypocritical to question my sexual history in view of your own? How many women have you had sex with?"

"Less than you think and I've only made love to one."

"Yes well, making love and sex are synonymous in my book. And the answer, for me at least, is one."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"Caveman."

"Are we back to this branding your ass, crap, Case?" He smiled. "I think you'd look good with DV on your butt."

"Only if you put 'Casey Woz ere' on yours."

"Tempting. Might be difficult to explain in the showers after my game is though."  
"I'm sure you'd cope."

Derek reached the conference room which had been set aside for the post-game interviews.

"I gotta go. I love you."  
"I love you too, D. Well done tonight. I was very proud of you."

"Thanks. I'll see you Saturday."

"I'll be the one in the Venturi jacket." Casey said, but Derek didn't take it in.

* * *

"_**Wife versus Sister – Heat exclusive.**_

_The people around the Venturi love triangle bare all._

_Casey McDonald by her exes._

_Chloe Venturi by her _first_ husband._

_How do the two important women in Derek Venturi's life measure up?"_

As much as Nora hated the concept of tabloid magazines, she almost felt compelled to purchase a copy so that she could tell what the leeches were saying about her daughter…and which of Casey's ex-boyfriends they had coerced into dishing.

Instead, on point of principle, she stood in the magazine section of Wal-mart and flicked.

By the time she reached home, she was seething.

"Just who the hell do these journalists think they are?" She questioned George as soon as she burst through the front door.

George looked up from his papers, laid out on the table.

"Have you been reading the gossip mags again? You know Casey warned you not to."

"George, this is my daughter they are writing this stuff about." Nora objected.

"Yes. A daughter who doesn't seem at all phased by it at all."  
"How could that…that…_female_ do this to her? She's turned Casey into a sordid tabloid story."

George snorted. "You know why she did it. It's because Derek chose Casey over her. She feels scorned."

"That's ridiculous. You don't ruin someone's life because your husband fell in love with them."

Her own husband sighed. "Nora. I hate to say this, but speaking from the sharp end of family law…that's exactly what people do. The issue here is that Chloe has more clout and can ruin Casey more publicly. Derek was an idiot to get involved with her."

"With Casey?"

"No. With Chloe."

* * *

"So Derek…does this mean the old charmed Venturi is back?" The interviewer asked Derek as the camera zoomed in for a close up.

"Let's hope so, eh?"

"What do you put your new form down to?"

Derek shrugged and smirked. "The love and support of _all_ my family. Good home-cooked meals...a bit of an emotional closet-clearing." He turned to the camera and laughed. "Releasing a few skeletons! Oh! And the right kind of exercise."

The interviewer chuckled. "What no… "love of a good woman"?"

Derek grinned. "I said the right kind of exercise."

He winked…and walked away.

Casey rolled her eyes at the television screen, but there was a definite smile on her lips.

The door to the communal area opened, and Trevor entered. He caught Casey's eye and jerked his head towards the door. Seeing that the television interview with Derek was over, Casey stood and followed him to the door. Once outside, she turned to Trevor and Harriet who had appeared beside him.

"Catching up on your Derek-fix?" Trevor teased.

"Just seeing what he was saying about me."

Harriet chuckled. "Oh? It didn't seem to me that he mentioned you at all…or was I missing something?"

Casey said nothing but all three of them laughed.

"It was all about you, wasn't it?" Harriet exclaimed. "Everything?" Her eyes narrowed. "So what did he mean about exercise?"  
Derek's girlfriend widened her eyes in an exaggerated fashion.

"I couldn't possibly say."

"Well there's no way you've been doing the dirty. You've been holed up here for weeks."  
Trevor shook his head at Harriet's naivety. He looked about him and satisfied they were alone, whispered. "Casey McDonald…have you been sneaking Derek Venturi into your room?"

Casey pushed away from the wall and started to walk to their rehearsal room, looking back over her shoulder as she did so.

"No comment." She beamed at their startled faces.

* * *

"I heard a rumour…" Luan started, on Friday morning. "…that Chloe is wearing a white cat suit tomorrow."

Trevor smiled. "Casey's wearing satin hot pants."  
"Did someone change the theme for this week to the seventies while I wasn't looking?" Luan complained. Harriet laughed.

"No. Definitely not the seventies. If it's any consolation, Casey's wearing an evening dress for her _song_."

"Tell me it's something that I don't have to wear ear plugs for. Chloe's singing Toni Braxton."

Harriet looked at her in horror. "Please tell _me_ that it's not "Un-break my heart"."

Luan smiled. "I wish I could."  
"Urgh! She definitely doesn't have the voice for it."

"For what?" Casey asked, coming into the room, coffee cup in hand.

"Chloe's singing "Un-break my heart.""

"I used to like that one…till George started singing it every time Mom got a twinge when she was pregnant with Robbie." She glanced at their un-comprehending faces. "Braxton-Hicks is the technical term for the false contractions women sometimes get in late pregnancy." She explained. "Unfortunately, my step-father got a little _too_ involved in the birth of his last child. He became a walking encyclopaedia of child birth and useless facts. He also developed a "sense of humour"." She said the latter with air quotes. "He thought it was amusing to sing Toni Braxton and believe me…he _definitely_ doesn't have the voice for it."

"So what are you singing?" Luan asked.

"Luan. Have I told you a song in advance yet?" Casey asked with a smile.

"No."

"Well then." She smirked. "You'll just have to wait like everyone else."

"Aw. Spoilsport. And here was me about to tell you that I'll pick Derek up so that he doesn't have to park in that dodgy lot again this week."

Casey laughed. "In that case, you can hang around for the rehearsal and I'll give you his cell phone number so that you can let him know. Just…whatever you do, don't tell him what dance and song numbers I've chosen."  
"Why?"  
"He wants a surprise." Casey replied with a shrug.

Trevor snorted. "And a surprise he is definitely going to get."

* * *

"_Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the penultimate round of "Stars with Hearts"! And have we got a show in store for you. We are down to just four contestants and tonight we will choose the three stars who will go through to the live final next week. This week, we have the exciting theme of Music of Black Origin, which I'm sure gave everyone a great range to choose from. Looking back stage I've seen some amazing costumes and heard some interesting warm ups._

_In a change to the normal routine, this week we will start with the song section and finish with the dance section. So without further ado, let's see what our stars have been up to this week." _

The presenter turned dramatically to the large screen behind him where the videotaped summary of the past week's rehearsals was to be shown.

The video would give little away. Both Chloe and Casey's teams had learnt early on to practice moves without music or to work on other exercises when they were being observed. Today's video included the dress-fittings as well, although whilst Chloe was shown being fitted for her cat suit, Casey had been fortunate to be trying on her evening dress when the cameras intruded on her.

Some of the stars and their teams waited backstage for the video to finish, fidgeting nervously. Casey was surprisingly relaxed. She leaned up against the wall in her long elegant evening gown, its high side splits revealing shapely legs and it's custom-fit clinging expertly to her curves.

"You look stunning." A voice said softly in her ear. "Do I get to take that off you later?"

Casey pulled a face and turned to regard her partner. "No. I've got a different outfit for later. You wanted a surprise, remember?"

Derek cocked an eyebrow, glanced around and pulled her behind a piece of stage flat.

"How about I maul you in it now?" He suggested.

"Oh coz that would look fantastic when I go on." She said sarcastically. "Instead of seductive I'd look ravaged."

Derek kissed her carefully. "I'll be gentle."

Casey kissed him back. "I won't." She said softly, and their eyes smiled at each other.

But then she straightened and pushed him away.

"I'd rather not make the front cover of Hello with a picture of us making out backstage. Let's save that for later. Have you still got your key?"

"Yup."

"I'll see you upstairs then." Casey said in dismissal and started to move away.

"Where are you going?" He asked quietly.

"To surprise you." She said, grinning.

Chloe went first with her rendition of "Un-break my heart". She was wearing some sort of designer rag dress and she had left her hair un-brushed and wore no make-up. The strange thing was that whilst on Casey the look had worked, because everyone was so used to seeing Chloe look perfect the contrast was not only dramatic but also rather hideous. Casey had been perfectly imperfect, Chloe looked…wrong. And it wasn't only her appearance. Harriet appeared at Casey's elbow halfway through the song.

"I told you she couldn't sing this." Harriet murmured in Casey's ear.

"She sounds okay to me." Casey admitted. "Not great, but…okay."  
Harriet chuckled softly. "Yeah. It's amazing what _auto-tuning_ can do for an average singer."

"Auto-what?"

"Auto-tuning. It's a process whereby they take the raw sound passing through her mike and use a computer to adjust the pitch and correct mistakes before the processed sound is passed to the speakers."

"While she's singing?" Casey asked in astonishment.

Harriet nodded. "Normally it's used in the recording studios but it can be used for live performances too."  
"Have you ever used it on my voice?" Casey had to know if they had "helped" her along."

"You don't need it hun." Harriet said. "You can sing."

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."

The audience clapped and cheered Chloe's performance, and then it was Casey's turn.

She made her way onto the stage, her glittering shoes poking out from the long black dress as she walked towards the bar stool centre-stage. A spotlight shone on a group of musicians off to one side, and the deep seductive sound of a slapped bass began to play.

"_Never been no fragile flower…"_ Casey sang, the blues guitar punctuating the end of her first phrase like a comma. _"…I've always got too much to say."_

Glancing toward the wings, Casey caught Derek's eye. He was smirking at her words.

"_Never had much luck with romance. I guess it's always been that way._

_But I've been seriously thinking about slipping on the velvet gloves._

_Give me a sign, let's not waste anymore time, Coz what we got here is true love…yea!"_

Casey clicked her fingers as she sang, enjoying the blues rhythm. Rehearsals this week had been great fun – both for the singing and the dancing. Harriet had brought the blues band in a couple of days early and they had jammed for a while. Casey had decided she would have to stay in touch with the group after this was over and make arrangements to have a session with them again.

"_When I wake up every morning, you're the first thing on my mind. This is a permanent condition, of the most serious kind…"_ She carried on singing and Derek's eyes never left hers.

"That didn't surprise me." Derek murmured as she passed him on her way off stage. Casey raised an eyebrow. "The best is yet to come." She said…and winked.

* * *

**AN: There's a big scandal over here at the moment on our X-Factor where they have revealed they use auto-tuning. The public are not impressed. Apparently, it's been around for twenty years.**

**Casey's song is "True Love" by Pat Benetar. (It's on you tube.)**


	39. The Camel

"You know, someone ought to tell him that white men can't do Thriller." Trevor said in Casey's ear. They were watching the racing driver executing a routine which was apparently supposed to be based on the award-winning dance track – it looked more like someone had slipped him some strychnine.

"Oh I don't know. I think he has the zombie look down to a tee." Harriet murmured. Casey rolled her eyes at both of them. "Actually, Derek does a better zombie than that." She frowned. "Where did he go by the way?"  
"I had him evicted." Harriet said. "Didn't want him messing with your performance."  
Casey gaped. "You did what?"

"Relax. I had him moved to the audience so that he couldn't see your costume before you went on. He'll still be here." Harriet nudged Trevor. "Who's up next?"

"Our favourite news-anchor."

"And what delights does he have to offer?"

"I don't know but I swear I spotted an afro wig."

Casey winced. "That doesn't sound good." And the others nodded their agreement.

As Michael Jackson left the stage, a bell-bottomed, afro-wearing news-anchor entered it and assumed a pose as James Brown screeched "I feel good!"

"Oh fuck!" Trevor gasped his eyes widening. "My shit! We've created a monster!"

Harriet smacked him and grimacing turned her back on the spectacle. "I can't look but tell me…how is this of our making?" She glanced behind her. "Oh dear god! I should have stuck to bland humourless performances for Casey. Inject an element of humour and everyone thinks they can do it."

"Bland, humourless?" Casey objected. "I liked my Xtina numbers."

Harriet didn't listen. "Next time, I do a celebrity show I'm having my charge sing songs from "Annie". No. Screw that. I'm not going near another reality TV show – even if the wolves are salivating at the door and the only alternative is selling my body to the lowest bidder."  
Casey muttered something that sounded like _been there done that_.

Trevor grinned. "Aw! You two have no backbone. This is _fun_!"

"You're a sick man, Trevor, darling. A sick man." Harriet complained.

"But you love me really."

"You keep telling yourself that, sunshine, you keep telling yourself that." Harriet patted him on the shoulder. Casey smiled at them and then pulled a face as the dancer on the stage failed to pull off the splits.

"Ouch. Well after this, anything Chloe has to offer will be a breath of fresh air." She said.

Harriet snorted. "Of the stinky variety you get near a pig farm." She nodded towards the wings on the other side of the stage.

Chloe was waiting for her cue. She was wearing, as predicted, a white satin cat suit, tight and unforgiving against her skin. Her long blonde hair was pulled into two pigtails and there was a glitter tattoo at each of her temples. Her eye make up was luminescent blue and silver covering her eyelids to her eyebrows and her lips were full, red and glossy. She wore white leather kinky boots with platform heels.

"How the fuck is she going to dance in those?" Trevor exclaimed.

"It's Abba – Anni-Frid, Bjorn, Benny and Agnetha all rolled into one!" Harriet chuckled.

"I was thinking more Boney M actually." Trevor snorted.

"Boney M?" Casey queried.

"You're too young – and Canadian." Harriet said dryly.

"No she's not. Come on Casey. You must have heard of "Brown Girl in the Ring"…sha-lalalalala!" He launched into a little disco-inspired dance humming away. He finished with a twirl and looked expectantly at her.

Casey looked at him blankly for a moment and then turned to Harriet.

"So…any thoughts on what I should sing next week…assuming I get through?" she said, ignoring Trevor's antics.

He huffed and the two girls giggled.

"Aw! You poor sensitive tart." Harriet teased Trevor. "Casey can't help it if she doesn't understand the joys of classic camp 70s disco. You can educate her later."

Trevor looked thoughtful. "Maybe we should do a Boney M track for the final."

Harriet looked horrified. "Over my dead body!" She insisted.

"Shhh!" hissed Casey. "Chloe's about to start."

Chloe had moved onto the stage and a group of backing dancers had lined up behind her. It appeared they were also singers because they suddenly chorused,

"Aww…Freak Out!" at the same time as a lone guitar started to play the melody.

"Le Freak…C'est Chic!"

Chloe launched herself into a disco routine that appeared to have elements of the hand-jive and Thriller in it and behind her, the backing dancers followed her every move.

Harriet snorted. "Le Freak is about right."

"Not bad dancing though." Trevor said reluctantly. "A bit limited, and unimaginative, but believe me Maurice is like that." He said it in a way that left no doubt that he was talking about moves other than dance routines.

Harriet laughed. "Bitch!" She teased.

"Hell yes!" Trevor grinned back. He leaned towards Casey. "You are so going to blow them out of the water, duckie."

Casey steeled herself. "Let's hope so."

* * *

Derek was sitting between two complete strangers who apparently knew each other. They were muttering across him all the way through the first three acts of the second half and annoying though it was, the only thing stopping him from asking them if they wanted to switch places was the fact that their conversation was actually quite interesting.

"What do you think of it so far?"

"Well they've obviously got Dave Marshall working the auto-tuner. I'd recognise his handi-work a mile off."

"Apart from that Pat Benatar number. Who do you think they had working that?"  
The guy on Derek's left looked surprised. "You think that was "tuned"?"

"Nah. You're right. They left that raw. Which was good. You shouldn't fuck with blues." His friend replied.

"So. Who do you think is going to win this little farce then?"

"Tonight or over all?"

"Over all."

"Haven't you been watching the last few weeks? There's only one person with any serious talent."  
"I guess. Are you gonna offer her something?"

"Probably. Trouble is I've been reading her bio and I can tell she's a "donate it all to charity" type."

"Hmm…Yeah I got that impression too."

"She's good though. Makes you wonder how she slipped through the talent net."

"Some people don't want fame."  
"But some deserve it."

The first guy snorted. "I wouldn't wish fame on my worst enemy."

The guy on Derek's right snorted. "Yeah well I get the impression that _her_ worst enemy has unwittingly granted her exactly that."

* * *

"Ready?" Harriet asked Casey as she watched the make-up artist touch up Casey's face.

Casey sighed. "No. Not really. If this wasn't a matter of pride against Derek Venturi I'd be dancing to something calm and relaxing right now."  
Trevor came into the conversation. "You look damn hot, girl. Don't beat yourself down."

"I look like an expensive cheerleader."

"No. You don't."

"A kept woman."

"Definitely not."

"A gangster's whore."

Harriet laughed. "More like a rapper's bitch."  
"Gee. Thanks." Casey groaned. "Harriet, would you mind zipping up my jacket. I can't do it in these talons."

"Sure." Harriet said, zipping up the red satin version of a hockey jacket. She zipped it to the point where the zipper was level with Casey's nipples, revealing an impressive cleavage.

"I can't believe Trevor made me wear this bra. It's like wearing a corset. I feel squeezed and moulded."  
"You look it." Harriet grinned. "Go on. Show me the little thrust thing again."  
"Pervert." Casey retorted but she squeezed her shoulder blades together so that they forced her breasts together and up in a little jerky movement.

Harriet laughed. "Classy. Now, get your ass on stage and show 'em how it's done."

* * *

The stage dimmed and Derek sat forward. Casey had promised him a surprise and he totally believed she was capable of delivering. The question was, what sort of surprise would it be? The sort that shocked like her Robert Smith impression or the sort that shocked like her Chloe impression? He ran his fingers through his hair nervously.

Derek could see Casey's silhouette against the backdrop. A figure posed sideways on, one leg straight, the other bent slightly, two arms extended rigidly in front of her, one higher by 30 degrees to the other. Her head followed the line of her arms and her hair was pulled back into a very straight high ponytail.

The light rose and he saw she was wearing white satin hot-pants with a diamante belt and a tight red satin jacket with something written on the back – although he couldn't see what.

A clicking rhythm started and she wiggled her hips in time to the beat as Will. started to speak.

_What you gon' do with all that junk?  
All that junk inside your trunk?  
_Casey turned to face the audience, the movement of her hips now pulsing through the rest of her body in a way that made all the men in the room sit up and take notice. Her hips and backside twitched and her torso rolled to extend the movement, her extra-long false fingernails tracing the distracting movement.

_I'm a get, get, get, get, you drunk,  
Get you love drunk off my hump.  
_Casey stuck her backside out and ran her hand over it as it wiggled.

_My hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump,  
My hump, my hump, my hump, my lovely little lumps (Check it out)  
_  
Derek's jaw dropped. Casey dancing to Black Eyed Peas was definitely a surprise. Suddenly all the blood in his body headed southwards and he found himself breaking out into a sweat. He watched her run her taloned hands over her breasts and ass as she writhed on the stage and he swallowed hard.

"Fuck! I'm in love." The guy next to Derek gasped. His friend had gone pale and crossed his legs. Despite his own predicament, Derek chuckled.

_My love (love), my love, my love, my love (love)  
You love my lady lumps (love),  
My hump, my hump, my hump (love),  
My humps they got you,  
_  
Casey had now been joined on stage by her own backing dancers who were mimicking her movements. Lots of sinuous movements and stroked backsides – all of them sporting nail extensions long enough to make a grown man cry.

_I'm a make, make, make, make you scream  
Make you scream, make you scream.  
Cos of my hump (ha), my hump, my hump, my hump (what).  
My hump, my hump, my hump (ha), my lovely lady lumps (Check it out)  
_

There wasn't a set of eyes in the room that weren't on Casey. She had an amazing body and the outfit she was wearing was breathtaking, particularly for Derek because when she turned her back to the audience for a little wiggle and thrust she revealed that the wording across her back spelled clearly "Venturi".

"Shit!" Derek muttered under his breath. Casey had just branded herself with his name.

"Lucky fucker." The guy on his right hissed. Derek frowned, wondering if the guy had suddenly recognised him, but when the guy clearly wasn't looking in his direction he decided on balance that the guy was just expressing an opinion. He turned his attention back to the stage.

Casey and the girls were now lined up, legs apart and performing their own little hand jive; alternate hands on hips and the backs of their heads, thrusting their hips forward, pouting. The movements had an almost Egyptian feel to them, jerky and yet seductive. It seemed that every time they used the word "hump" or "lump" Casey jerked her ass or breasts in a way that Derek doubted was acceptable on a family television station. Fortunately, this station had no such family policy.

_They say I'm really sexy, _

[The way Casey's pelvis was wiggling was bringing tears to Derek's eyes]_  
_

_The boys they wanna sex me._

[And did she have to touch her own breasts with those fingernails like that?]_  
_

_They always standing next to me,  
Always dancing next to me,  
Tryin' a feel my hump, hump._

[Slap! Her hand crashed onto her backside. Oh sweet BJ…]_  
_

_Lookin' at my lump, lump. _

[Derek remembered a conversation where she had objected to the word "lumps" in regard to her anatomy. The little…]_  
_

_You can look but you can't touch it,  
If you touch it I'm a start some drama, _

[Arms above her head in a sort of fusion between Egyptian dancing and a boxing stance]_  
_

_You don't want no drama, _

[Egyptian head jerks]_  
_

_No, no drama, no, no, no, no drama  
So don't pull on my hand boy,  
You ain't my man, boy,  
I'm just tryn'a dance boy,  
And move my hump.  
_

Derek watched transfixed like everyone else, but with an added excitement that came with knowing that this whole performance was about proving something to _him_ – and that in a short while he would be spending the night with the beauty currently thrusting her ass in his direction. Can anyone say _foreplay?_

_What you gon' do with all that junk?  
All that junk inside that trunk?  
I'ma get, get, get, get you drunk,  
Get you love drunk off this hump.  
What you gon' do wit all that breast?  
All that breast inside that shirt?_

[Casey flexed her shoulder blades back and forth and her impressive cleavage jerked up and down quickly in time to the next line.]_  
_

_I'ma make, make, make, make you work  
Make you work, work, make you work.  
_  
Derek groaned aloud and then, embarrassed, glanced around to see if anyone had noticed, but their attention was elsewhere. He doubted anyone was watching him.

He doubted if anyone could remember their own name.

He knew he couldn't.

So it was a good job Casey had written it on her back for him.

* * *

**AN: www[dot]youtube[dot]com[slash]watch?v=iEe_eraFWWs&ob=av2e**

**This was a difficult scene to write because I didn't want to put all lyrics there and I wanted to portray the dance, so all I'll say is that to truly appreciate the flavour of Casey's dance, go watch the "My Humps" video on YT. My routine isn't identical, but you get the idea…**


	40. Aftershock

"George. Close your mouth, you'll catch flies." Nora said throwing a cushion at her husband. "Casey warned us that it would be over the top."

"That's your _daughter_!" George protested pointing at the screen.

Nora laughed. "Oh for goodness sake! Anyone would think she'd taken her clothes off and paraded across primetime TV."

George mumbled something unintelligible.

"What happened to staying low profile?" Lizzie asked from the other side of the room. Edwin had long since fled.

"Derek challenged Casey to surprise him. So she did. You know she could never resist a Venturi challenge."

George had recovered his decorum…slightly. "What happened to feminist principles? That was hardly a "girl power" song."

"Oh Georgie. No one says "girl power" anymore! Casey told me that she thought the song was ironic and designed to deliberately poke fun at material girls. She said even if it wasn't, so long as it knocked Derek off his perch it made her happy."

"I thought they were supposed to be in love with each other?" George objected.

Lizzie laughed. "George. This is Derek and Casey we're talking about. Tonight the whole of Canada was subjected to a touch of Derek and Casey foreplay."

George's face was a whole new shade of green.

* * *

"Same again?" The guy behind the bar asked Truman French. "You look like you could do with it."

"Yeah. I just had a shock."

The barman laughed. "I think half of Canada just had a shock."

"It's a bit more than that. I know her."

The barman leaned forward. "Really? You wanna get me her number?" he asked laughing. Then ignoring Truman, he moved onto serve the next customer.

"She isn't frigid." A voice said next to Truman. There was a smack as a magazine slapped down onto the bar beside him. He looked up into dark brown eyes, one of which had an arched eyebrow.

"Emily…" Truman began. "Long time no…"

"Can it asshole! I can't believe you talked to a trash-mag about Casey! Actually, yes I can. Derek was right; trashcan by name, trashcan by nature."

"Emily, I can explain…"  
"Explain what? How, because Casey's subconscious saw through your bullshit even when her heart couldn't, thereby preventing her from giving her V-card to you, that warrants you telling the gossip-whores that she's _frigid_? God! Does anyone even know what that means anymore?

Or perhaps you could explain the necessity of you sharing with said-whores how you once persuaded her to let you sneak into her bedroom in an attempt to stay the night? Funny how you don't tell the rest of that little anecdote…i.e. that the reason why she didn't have sex with you that night was because Derek locked your half-naked ass out on the porch and you were forced to spend the night under my mom's rosebush?"

"That's a lie!"

Emily snorted. "Yeah right. Truman. I know it's true because my eyes are still recovering from the sight of you in your little playboy bunny briefs! I tell you now… it took five Brad Pitt movies, the entire Pirates of the Caribbean franchise and a George Clooney to hold the nausea at bay."

"Emily, come on. If someone you dated made it big wouldn't you want to shout it to the world?"

Casey's best female friend smiled sweetly.

"Truman. I dated Derek Venturi. Much as I love Casey, she is still in his shadow when it comes to being a house-hold name, although that might change after tonight.

I was the girl Derek took to Senior prom. But I never once considered selling my story. Not even when I had my landlord threatening me with eviction."

Truman smirked. "Then you're a fool."

"No. I'm a _friend_." Emily shifted her weight on her feet so that she seemed taller. "And as Derek and Casey's friend I'm telling you now. One more sensational interview with Casey's "first true love" and I start talking to the gossip mags too.

And of course, that period you were dating Casey - was when I joined the photography club for the school yearbook. It's amazing what _wildlife_ you can capture in a rose bush with a telephoto lens."

* * *

"Wow!" Sam said, closing his mouth abruptly and turning from the television screen to look at Ralph. "That was something else."

"Yeah! Amazing." Ralph agreed.

"I mean, we knew she could dance, but that wasn't dancing. It was…"

"…hot." Ralph finished.

"Definitely, hot." Sam nodded.

There was a pause.

"What I wouldn't give for that chick's number!" Ralph said. "Who is she?"

* * *

Luan watched the final moments of Casey's dance and then took out her phone and texted her auntie.

**You might want to get Uncle Paul's heart pills out if he watches Stars with hearts tonight.**

"How was it?" Casey asked breathlessly as she came off stage. Luan grinned.

"I didn't watch you." Luan admitted. "I watched Derek in the audience. Or rather my video-camera did." She held up a tiny handheld camcorder. "Wanna take a look?"

"Okay. That's a look of surprise." Casey announced a few minutes later. "I won!"

Luan chuckled. "You two are unbelievable!"

"It's called healthy competition." Casey grinned. She lowered her voice. "Are you still okay for tomorrow morning?"

Her friend nodded. "I've parked in the same place as last week. Tell him to be ready for five am and I'll run him home." She winked. "I'd say make sure you set your alarm, but somehow I don't think you'll get any sleep."

* * *

Chloe swallowed the bitter disappointment that surfaced when she saw Derek approaching the backstage area after the recording had stopped. She wasn't exactly aiming her performances at him anymore, sensing that not only was he not getting closer to her but he was pulling away. But she had still harboured a hope that he might want to spend time with her, or that he would at least want to talk to her. Instead, he talked his way through the security to the part of the hotel that was cordoned off from the audience and walked past Chloe with a determined look on his face like a man on a mission.

Chloe pulled a face. It didn't take a genius to work out what that mission was. Chloe had watched Casey's performance – and Derek's reaction to it. Finally, Chloe admitted to herself, Derek Venturi was a lost cause.

The question was, what did she do next?

* * *

Luan intercepted Derek shortly after he passed Chloe.

"Back stairs." She hissed. "Heat magazine are staking out the main stairs and elevators."

"Where are the back stairs?"

"Off the kitchens. I'll show you."

They slipped quietly away and Luan moved quickly through increasingly smaller corridors until they reached a side entrance to the kitchens. They managed to avoid the main rooms where the staff were preparing the evening food, and passed through a set of non-descript double doors.

In front of them was a flight of hard concrete stairs. Off to one side was a fire door leading to the outside, and Derek knew where they were. It was the set of stairs they had fled down the previous week in the early hours.

"Just be careful when you get to Casey's floor. Check the corridor before you leave the stairwell."

"Will do. Thanks."

"No problem. Just don't forget 5am…and keep the noise down."  
Derek smirked, blew her a kiss and then started up the stairs two at a time.

When he reached Casey's room, he once again let himself in with her spare room key and then he sat down to wait…but not for long.

The click of Casey's own key card in the door disturbed his contemplation of the television where he was watching the broadcast of Casey's dance – with its time-delay. And then she was there, still dressed in the tight hot pants and the red shiny jacket that he was sure was going to play its part in some late night fantasies of his for a very long time to come.

Casey let the door close behind her and then she leant back against it. Derek watched her from his vantage point on the bed.

"Hi." Casey said lamely. Derek smirked. Her eyes narrowed. "I guess we're going to the island for a month." She smirked back.

"Because?"  
"Because I surprised you…I have video evidence." She said smugly, folding her arms. It was a dangerous manoeuvre because her breasts were already being squeezed and manipulated by the bra that Trevor had forced her into, and the hockey jacket had been cut to emphasis her charms. Folding her arms across her middle, shoved everything northwards in a rather alarming way.

Derek swallowed and climbed off the bed.

"Casey. Do yourself a favour…don't breathe in or you'll get two black eyes."

Casey frowned. "I'll what?" And then her mind caught up with his sense of humour. "Der-ek!"

He laughed, advancing towards her. "You haven't said that very much lately. I've missed it." He said, finishing up within inches of her. They stared at each other.

"I'll take you to the island for a month." He said softly, his fingers reaching out to stroke her neck. "But I won't be held responsible if we never make it home."

Casey smiled. "That depends on your definition of "home"." She said, affectionately and Derek counted himself amongst the luckiest men on the planet.

"Casey, I…"

There was a knock at the door. Casey glanced at Derek in panic.

"Bathroom." She mouthed and he obeyed, pushing the door closed behind him. Casey straightened her clothes, which was ridiculous because they were so form-hugging, and opened the door.

"Room service!" A small teenaged kid in a badly fitting tux announced. Casey frowned because she hadn't ordered anything. Her phone bleeped.

**Sent some food up for you both. Don't forget to keep the noise down. – Luan.**

"You had better come in." Casey said, leading the way. The kid pushed the trolley into the room and proceeded to whip the bulbous lid from the dish.

"We have…steak and fries with our award-winning caesar salad, side order of onion rings. Extra large New York cheesecake and a bottle of our finest Australian Chardonnay." There was one portion of everything, but someone had gone overboard on the portion-sizing. "I hope you're hungry."  
Casey smiled. "I'm absolutely starving." She confirmed. With a glance down at her cleavage, the little boy grinned back. Casey rolled her eyes and waved him towards the door.

"Bona Appeteet!" He commented, murdering a couple of languages in the process as she shepherded him out and closed the door. Derek emerged from the bathroom and leaned against the wooden frame of the doorway.

"I think I'm in love with Luan." He stated.

"I'll give her a call, we'll swap places." Casey said picking up a fry and popping it in her mouth. Derek pushed away from the door and walked up behind her, his hands placing themselves on her shoulders.

"Nah. If I dated her I'd have to deal with her "Uncle Paul". Every argument and she'd be on the phone to him for psycho-analysis."

Casey closed her eyes as his fingers slipped around her to the zipper on the front of her jacket and started to work it down. The jacket really had been restraining her…assets and she felt a slight sense of release as the jacket swung loose.

"Better?" Derek asked in her ear and a finger brushed against her cleavage.

"Yes." She murmured. He kissed the back of her neck and slipped the jacket from her body, revealing the tight bra that Trevor had forced her to wear.

"You know for the first time I might finally have found something that diverts my attention from food." He said, kissing a trail along her now bare shoulders. Casey sighed and Derek chuckled. "Am I distracting _you_ yet?"

"Yes. But not enough that I believe you."

"I love you, Casey. You know that."

"I meant about the food, moron." She sighed as his hands drifted across her now naked stomach.

"Hmm." Derek murmured into her shoulder.

Then Casey gasped in surprise as he suddenly released her, the air around her suddenly colder without the warmth of his breath.

"You're right!" He exclaimed. "Not even _you_ can keep me from a decent steak and fries."

"Der-ek!" Casey complained as he picked up the plate and moved to the little table and chairs in the corner. He left it there and came back for the wine, leaning into Casey's neck as he passed her.

"Besides." He whispered, kissing behind her ear. "You've been _very_ energetic on stage tonight. If you don't get some calories in you soon you'll fall asleep before we get to the good bit."


	41. Nerves

It was dark when Derek opened his eyes but he knew where he was immediately because he could smell the unique scent that was Casey on the pillow next to him. He smiled to himself and stretched an arm to reach for her.

She wasn't there.

Slightly confused, he turned his head to look at the clock and saw that it was 1am. Frowning he sat up to look for the telltale crack of light under the bathroom door – but that was also missing. The room was in darkness.

As his eyes adjusted and he sat up straighter, rubbing his tired face with his hands, he realised that the darkness wasn't complete and that the drapes at the balcony window were drawn back, exposing a grey light from outside. A slight movement near the floor caught his eye and he looked down. Silhouetted against the dim light was a huddled bundle of bath robe and spare comforter.

Casey.

Derek shoved back the covers from his body and slipped naked from their bed. The cold hit him immediately and he grabbed the spare bathrobe which lay discarded on the end of the bed and slid his arms into its sleeves. Now semi-clothed and reaching Casey's form, he slid down to the ground beside her. Instinctively, affectionately he brushed the hair from the side of her face so that he could see her expression. She turned her head slightly to look at him and he saw to his horror the glistening of tears in the pale light.

"What's wrong?" he asked, quickly. "What did I do?" He sounded nervous. Casey smiled sadly, shaking her head. She reached for his hand and he laced fingers with her, pleased that she wanted the contact and comfort from him when she was upset. He'd changed a lot since their teenaged years and so had she.

"What do you think it is going to be like after next weekend?" She asked quietly. Her voice lowered because it was late, they were a secret – and because she was scared to voice the question. Derek shrugged.

"Complete and utter carnage." He said honestly, sliding an arm around her shoulders without letting go of her fingers. "We'll be tabloid fodder for a while."

Casey looked up at him in surprise. "Doesn't that bother you?"

He sighed. "Yeah for a brief instant. But it wouldn't be the first time for me, - the publicity thing I mean. _This…"_ he motioned between them. "This is brand new though and believe me, worth the pain. And newspapers are fickle. In two weeks some politician will father a love child and we'll be amongst the "also attended" in the society pages."

Despite her current mood, Casey smiled. She picked at the pile on his robe. "Derek, this isn't just about sex, is it?"

He threw her a disgusted look, made hasher by the shadows thrown onto his face by the light of the moon. He was surprised she even had to ask the question after everything they had been through to be together.

"Are you regretting this?" Derek asked reluctantly.

"Regret? Regret is for when you had control over an event. I don't think either of us had any control over us. It's always been instinctive."

"You could have stayed away." Derek pointed out. Casey laughed.

"No. I couldn't."

His arms tightened around her. "No. Neither could I." He paused. "Funny how our lives go to shit when we aren't together isn't it?"

"I missed you. I don't want to go through that again."  
"Me either." He nuzzled her neck and then planted a kiss on her skin. "So why the tears, princess? The paparazzi are nothing."

"I know. I'm worried about our family and friends. How are they going to take us being together?"

Derek pulled back. "Newsflash Casey. They already know."

"I know that, idiot. I mean I'm worrying about who is going to start refusing my calls when I get out of here. Who is going to be appalled by the idea of us dating? Who's going to distance themselves? Emily, Clare? People on your hockey team. You're going to be the guy that screwed his sister after all." Her words recalled earlier conversations they had had years ago.  
"Case. I know hockey players aren't renowned for their brains, but even my lot know the difference between a sister and a step-sister. I've made it very clear. But it's beside the point. If they can't deal with it, I don't want to deal with them. They can walk away from me if they want to. I can't walk away from you."  
Casey smiled. "That's sweet Derek. But it won't stop me worrying – and over-thinking."

Derek pulled away from her. "Ah…over-thinking, I can deal with." He said, standing up.

"Oh?"

He held out a hand to help Casey to her feet and they stood looking at each other: two lovers, their bathrobes untied and hanging loosely, neither of them wearing anything beneath the terry fabric.

Derek slipped a hand inside Casey's robe and located the small of her back so that he could draw her to him. Casey closed her eyes as the movement pressed their naked bodies tightly together. They were each cold but together their bodies created an electric warmth as they touched.

"Over-thinking involves _thinking_." Derek murmured against her ear and she felt his hip bones press against hers. "You aren't going to have time to think." He promised as his lips found hers.

When Derek next woke, he didn't need to look for Casey because she was wound so tightly around him if he _breathed the wrong way _she would wake up. He moved his eyes to the clock - 3am. He grinned and started to kiss her awake, desperate for them to make use of every moment before their 5am alarm.

* * *

Luan took pity on Derek and let him out of the trunk earlier today. He took his place beside her in the car thoughtfully. His distraction wasn't lost on Luan and she was slightly concerned because he didn't look as though he was a guy lost in the memories of a passionate night with the love of his life.

"Penny for them?" She offered as they pulled back onto the main road. Derek blew out a breath and turned to look out of the window.

"Casey's worried about people's reaction to us dating."

Luan shrugged. "So far the polls are positive."

Derek stared at her aghast. "They took polls on us dating?"

"Of course. The network needed to know whether to pull the plug on her participation."

"That's just…"  
"Television." Luan finished with a chuckle. It disappeared quickly. "Is she threatening to call it off? Your romance I mean?"

"No. Neither of us can do that anymore. I'm just worried about her. Other people's opinion matters to Casey. If our friends and family don't support us she'll be heartbroken."  
"Do you think that's likely?"

Derek considered the question. "For most of them…no. Our family already knows and they'll back us to the hilt. They've always seen us as a double act. Our friends…and by that I do mean "our"… Casey and I have shared our friends as long as we've shared our family. Our friends…the ones that have hung around through the crap of the fame and fortune bit are loyal and supportive – and I doubt that would change when this all becomes more common knowledge."

"They know now."

"No. There is speculation now, spurred on by our lack of denials and a bit of play acting on stage. When Casey leaves the hotel with me on Saturday night, it's going to be obvious. And when she moves in with me…"  
"_Moves in with you!_" Luan gasped. "Bit quick?"

"Or ridiculously slow depending on how you look at it. But I can't keep climbing down a fire escape in the early hours of the morning to avoid people knowing I'm staying at Casey's house."

"I guess not. Have you asked her?"  
"No. But she loves my house. She helped me choose it. I don't think she'll say no. I refuse to hang back and be conventional. Trying to be "conventional" got me a bruised ego and the marriage from hell."

Luan was thoughtful. "Maybe you should poll your friends before Saturday: work out who is going to cause you problems and plan a way to deal with them."

Derek tilted his head at Luan. "You know, maybe that isn't such a bad idea."

They were both silent for a few moments.

"Luan?"

"Yup."

"Where does Trevor live?"

* * *

Casey slept in again on Sunday morning because her sleep prior to five am had been intermittent, and of short duration. In fact, she slept so long she was late for her eleven am rehearsal with Trevor.

She high-tailed it out of her room and down the stairs as quickly as she could.

Harriet greeted her breathless figure with a wry smile. "It's okay. He's running late too. He's not even here yet."

Trevor bustled through the door ten minutes later looking puffed. "Sorry duckies. I had a breakfast meeting and it over-ran."  
Harriet arched an eyebrow. "Really, darling. Is that what they call it these days?"

Her partner in crime snorted. "Honestly girl, if I could have been doing _that_ with Derek Venturi at 6am on a Sunday morning I would have been well happy! Sadly, all he wanted was my dancing expertise. He was all business."

"Derek?" Casey's eyes widened. "You saw Derek this morning at 6am?"

"Like I said. A breakfast meeting. I wished he'd given me more notice though. I don't usually allow house calls before ten on a weekend. Still as I told him, it was totes worth it for the kudos of saying I've sat across the breakfast table from Derek Venturi…" he paused and gave Casey a pointed look. "…looking all kinds of 'just been fucked'. That was a major set of fingernail marks on the back of his neck. You go girl!"

Casey turned beetroot red. "Erm…"

"Leave the poor girl alone, Trevor, and tell us what the hockey god was after."

"Ah…well. That remains between him and me. However, you are both going to love it. Now! We've wasted enough time on this gossiping. Let's get on with some serious work, people!" he clapped his hands and turned towards the ipod dock.

* * *

The week passed the same way as the previous ones: long hours of rehearsals, both singing and dancing.

It had been Trevor who chose both the tracks this time. On Sunday, Harriet rehearsed blindly with Casey, following Trevor's directions, but on Monday her entire attitude changed and she became more confident. Casey secretly thought that in the meantime there had been some sort of communication between her two trainers and Harriet had been clued into Trevor's game plan. From Monday, she only ever had one of the trainers there. The other one was always "busy".

The theme for the final week was "Anything Goes". The contestants could choose any dance track and song format so long as they were suitable for performance in a large concert hall. The venue for the final had been changed to the city's premier venue and the music would be played by a full philharmonic orchestra to a live audience of thousands.

With the change in venue and audience came a new nervousness. The previous live audience had been intimate, and it was easy to forget that there were millions of people watching at home. Casey didn't lose the nerves despite Derek's best efforts to distract her on Saturday night. She wasn't sure which was more concerning, the thought of being on the biggest stage with the largest live audience of her life – or the thought of showing her new relationship to her friends and family.

On Wednesday, Derek played in another game and his performance was stellar. She told him so with pride and love on the phone that evening, and they made plans to celebrate as soon as she was free. Quietly to herself, Casey admitted it would have to be after she had had a decent sleep.

Because of the worry and tension Casey wasn't sleeping well. She had tried talking at length to Derek on the phone, but the calm reassurance he gave and the whispered words of love didn't last past the click as he hung up. She was uneasy and time moved both slowly and very quickly.

In bed she tossed and turned, and grew more and more restless. First the bed was too cold, then too warm. Second the room was too light/too dark. Finally, everything was just too quiet.

At three am she climbed out of bed, dressed and made her way back downstairs. The communal halls were brightly lit, but empty and it felt eerie moving around the hotel on her own. She passed the reception desk and shook her head when the receptionist asked if there was anything she could fetch Casey.

"I'm just after a book from the drawing room." Casey said. "Is that okay?"

"Sure. Help yourself. Can't you sleep?"

"No. Nerves I guess."

"You're an old hand at it now."  
Casey chuckled. "I wouldn't say that. But it has become a dirty habit."

She left the main concourse and made for the bizarre drawing room with its weird shade of green wall paper and its contrasting furniture. The room had large bookshelves at regular intervals and Casey often chose a book – largely classics- to read. Though the décor wasn't to her taste, Casey did like the smell of the room: strong leather and the musty hum of old books.

Normally the drawing room was empty, especially at three am.

Tonight it was not.

As Casey entered the room, she was brought up short by the scene in front of her.

Chloe was sitting in a high-back chair, like a throne dressed in tatty sweat pants and a scratty tee. Her make-up was smudged as though she had been crying and beside the chair was a discarded bottle of vodka. Chloe looked a complete an utter mess and completely out of place. The Chloe Casey had come to know would never have left herself open to the possibility of a tabloid photographing her like this. She would never have let _Derek_ see her like this, instead preferring to maintain an illusion of perfection.

Something was clearly wrong.

Unfortunately, Casey's arrival hadn't gone unnoticed.

"Sorry." Casey said and tried to walk out of the door again.

"No. Wait. Stop." Chloe said pulling her scatter limbs towards her and sitting forwards. "We need to talk."

And Casey, sensing something in the other woman's tone, closed the door behind her and crossed to Chloe's side.

* * *

**AN: Apologies for the lack of a decent update schedule recently. There are two reasons for this. Firstly, the boys are back to school and the change in routine is quite dramatic. I **_**should**_** have more time but for some reason that hasn't happened yet. Secondly, I've had writer's block over Casey's last song.**

**That has now cleared and I think there will be only one more chapter left, plus an epilogue. I'm hoping to have both of those written by the end of the week.**


	42. The Leopard

Casey sat down in the chair next to Chloe and waited for her foe to speak.

"He never talked about you." The blonde woman began. "Not really." She looked up to find Casey's blue eyes expressionless.

"The rest of your family talked about you all the time, you were always in the room, but Derek…he didn't hide he had a step-sister but he never mentioned you." She laughed humourlessly. "I thought it was because he didn't care. I even said as much to Martha."

"And what did Marti say?" Casey leaned back in the chair. She trusted Derek but she also knew that whatever Chloe was going to say during this conversation would affect her deeply.

"Martha – Marti said that sometimes we talk least about the things that hurt the most."

Casey said nothing, already aware of the wisdom behind her youngest sister's eyes; wisdom that others often mistook for mild insanity.

"I guess I chose to believe what it suited me to believe." Chloe continued. "He never corrected me when I spoke disparagingly of you."

This wasn't news to Casey. Derek had talked to her about how he had dealt with being in love with one woman and married to another. He had already told her, in whispered conversations while he stroked gentle fingers against bare skin that he hadn't "lived" while he was with Chloe. He had told her he had retreated into himself.

"Apart from the vase." Chloe noted. "He intervened about the vase."

Her language was changing. As she spoke to Casey, Chloe sounded more…educated than Casey had given her credit for.

"Tell me about life with Derek." His former wife asked. "What was it like growing up with him?"

Casey hesitated, wondering how she could do this, normal conversation with Derek's ex, but on reflection she decided Chloe needed to know everything: to know that she had squandered her only chance.

"My father left my mother by mutual consent when I was just fourteen." Casey began. "It took a while for my mom to get used to the idea of being a single parent, but eventually she did. For a few months afterwards, we had a simple, organised life as three females together. We were more sisters than mother and daughters. It was nice. Then Mom met George and when they decided to get married everything changed. Dad's financial assistance decreased and it wasn't feasible for us to go to our previous school, which upset me more than anything else. Then they announced that we were moving to London and not only would I lose my school, but all my friends, and my home."

"You must have been bitter?" Chloe asked. Casey nodded.

"Very. I was fifteen too. Not a good age to be uprooted. And then they finally told me that we would be moving into George's home with his children…and I lost it."

"Had you met Derek before?" Chloe sounded really interested, as though Casey was telling someone else's story and this had nothing to do with the man that metaphorically stood between them.

Casey shook her head.

The door opened and the receptionist came in.

"Sorry to disturb you both, I heard voices. Would you like some hot chocolate? I've asked the night cook to make me some."

"That would be great, thanks!" Chloe answered for both of them. Casey hid her surprise at the genuine tone of gratitude to Chloe's voice. The receptionist didn't.

"Where was I?" Casey asked when the hot chocolate was steaming in front of them, along with a plate of freshly baked chocolate cookies despite the nocturnal hour.

"Meeting Derek."

Casey smiled wryly and launched into the tale of how she had met her step-brother, and the early years of their relationship.

"So let me get this straight…you two _hated_ each other." Chloe sounded surprised.

"With a passion." Casey admitted. "But at the same time, we understood each other. And I think that was part of the problem. I understood him and he understood me. We couldn't hide the way we normally did. Every emotion, every motivation was obvious to the other even when it wasn't to other people." She sighed. "We had "moments" where we were honest, but largely, we were enemies." She smiled at Chloe. "I have no idea how our friends and family put up with us."

"What changed?"  
"Honestly I don't really know. Gradually, the emphasis changed. We fought, but it became important to us that the only people we fought with was each other. Derek reacted whenever someone else tried to mess with me. I in return became defensive of him."

"And then you went to college…"

"Yes…then we went to college." Casey took a deep breath. "At college, we wiped the slate clean. Derek wasn't living up to an expectation, and I wasn't trying to expunge my own rep. We could be ourselves." She laughed. "Of course, we still fought, because we were each other's link to our past…but, where I expected him to ditch me and move on, instead he invited me, wordlessly, into his group. His friends became my friends even while we weren't. We coasted along in denial of our reluctant friendship."  
"And then?"

"And then…Derek got scouted and he left." Casey looked away remembering the early months of Derek's absence. "It should have been the end of it, we should have slipped into a kind of fraternal relationship…but we didn't. Instead he sent me tickets to visit him, put me up on his sofa…and I went to him when he asked. And suddenly we realised we needed each other and nothing would ever change that."

"You were in love?"  
"Not really…not yet. But we were unwittingly close. I became the best friend. I watched the women come and go, pandered to his silly requests and pulled him out of the toilet before every game. I was the one he took on vacation, the one he called in the middle of the night."  
"I'd have killed for that…" Chloe admitted. Casey sighed.

"It wasn't all sweetness and light. Neither of us treated the other particularly well at times, but I guess we were already committed to each other."

They were quiet for a moment.

"When…?" Chloe asked. She couldn't form the words, but Casey knew what she was asking. _When did you fall in love?_

Casey sipped at her hot chocolate. "After many years. We'd been growing closer – although I can only say that now. He moved house and was closer to me, and though he never said the words I understood that it was a deliberate move back to me."

"You let him?"

"Oh yeah. I wouldn't have left it any other way."

Chloe nibbled on a cookie and it was, Casey thought, the first time she had ever seen the woman _eat_ something.

"You slept together?" Chloe asked next. For a moment, Casey considered not answering Chloe because she was worried about her publicising that fact. But the Chloe in front of her now wasn't the confident woman Casey had seen every day for the last few weeks.

"Once. A last ditch attempt to just get each other out of our system…it didn't work."  
"When?"  
Casey swallowed knowing the answer wasn't going to be easy for Chloe to hear. "About six months before he married you."

"Oh." Chloe was quiet and Casey knew that she had realised the implications. Derek's decision to marry Chloe was a rebound reaction to the loss of a soul-mate. As if to confirm her suspicions, Chloe took a deep breath and asked, "Why did he marry me?"  
"You need to ask Derek that."

"He won't talk to me."

"Maybe try asking quietly and when the eyes of the world aren't on you both." A hardened tone came into Casey's voice because she couldn't forgive Chloe for the feeding frenzy of the press she had caused in recent months.

She expected Chloe to fight back, but she didn't.

Chloe nodded and Casey sat up straighter in the chair.

"Chloe. Despite his laid back attitude to life, Derek is fiercely loyal. He married you he would have stayed with you and I would have stayed away."

"…if I hadn't screwed things up?" Chloe finished for Casey.

"If you had been _honest_ with him. He's a decent guy."

They sat quietly pondering each other's words.

"I know he's a decent guy. It wouldn't have been a marriage though." Chloe said eventually. "He was in love with you. He wouldn't have been mine. He was always yours."

Casey closed weary eyes. "And I've always been his."

* * *

Saturday evening seemed to come quickly in the chaos of preparations. Derek was obviously busy with hockey training because he managed to go more than four hours in a day without texting or emailing Casey…a fact _she_ only realised when she didn't need to charge her phone quite so often. Breaking free of here was something she was longing to do.

Breaking free and then spending a month on a hot sunny island with her…

Yet again, a definition for Derek eluded her. If this kept up much longer she was going to start thinking of him with a capital "H" much the same way as Christians did when talking about…

_Absolutely not!_ Casey might love Derek with an unearthly passion but she would not use the words Derek and god in the same sentence…_WHOOPS!_

Casey and the other contestants travelled to the concert hall in individual limousines. Only Luan accompanied her but she wasn't free to talk during the half hour journey. Instead, Paul's niece, in a plain black suit today, spent the entire journey on the phone to her boss reassuring him that everything would be okay. Casey admired Luan's optimism given the events of the past five weeks. But having said that, Chloe had been quiet since Casey's conversation with her the other night: quiet and strangely absent.

The show's producer gave each of the "stars" their own dressing room this time and Casey's was next to Chloe's. Through the paper thin walls, Casey could hear her former sister-in-law screeching at her assistants and the tinny yapping of a small lapdog. Chloe was evidently in a bad mood and taking it out on everyone around her.

So it came as something of a surprise when the aforementioned former relative appeared at her door.

…Appeared at her door, came in and closed it.

"Hey." Chloe started.

"Hey." Casey replied cautiously. She wasn't sure where this was going.

"Erm…I just wanted to say thank you." Chloe said, looking uncomfortable. "For the other night. For being honest with me and…" She paused. "Derek phoned me."

That wasn't a surprise. Casey nodded.

Chloe took a deep breath. "I know you asked him to. I really appreciate it, Casey. He met me earlier and we talked about things…things we needed to say to each other." She smiled sadly. "He apologised for not being honest with me, and I apologised for not being honest with him." Chloe sat down on a spare chair.

"You were right you know. He's a really nice guy and we might have made something of the marriage if I had told him the truth. I don't just mean about my original marriage…I mean about everything. I've tried very hard over the last few days to think of a time where I was totally honest with him…and I can't." Chloe bit her lip nervously.

"He fitted in with my life plan…you know: what I wanted to achieve. I wanted a successful career, lots of money, and an attractive, famous husband. I wanted people to envy me. Growing up…my family…they didn't have a lot and everyone knew it. I was so sick of the pity I saw in people's eyes when they looked at me." Bitterness clouded her statement and she looked up at Casey.

"The first time I saw _envy_ in someone's eyes…wow! The feeling was just…powerful." Chloe broke off. "But what have I got to show for it? A mistake of a husband who would sell his soul for his next fix and can't stay sober enough to sign the fucking divorce papers, a reputation for biting people's heads off and keeping them as trophies…"

Casey sniggered and Chloe smiled at her.

"…and an ex-almost husband who was decent, kind – and in love with someone else. Even my family are sick of me."  
"I doubt that, Chloe. Families rarely give up loving us, no matter what the mistakes we make. When did you last see them?"

"Over a year ago."

"A year! How can you leave it so long?"

Chloe sighed. "There were words spoken in haste and…frankly I'm embarrassed."

"Of them?"  
"No! Of who I am. Of who I've become." She glanced ruefully at the wall. "You heard me just now…I don't know how to be any other way anymore."

Casey leaned forward and took her hand. "Maybe it's time to take a step back, regroup…work out what you want. You are successful, you have a successful career. I'm assuming you have money…?"

"Purlease!" Chloe snorted, and then collected herself. "Sorry." She said sheepishly. Casey grinned.

"Now what do you want to do with it?

"Do with it?"

Casey nodded. "Yeah. You want to blow it all on a big party, travel the world, donate it to charity? Take time off, travel the world _for_ a charity? Chloe, you could even become a spokesperson for a cause."

Chloe was thoughtful. "You mean like Princess Di and landmines?"

Casey resisted the temptation to laugh. The comparison between Chloe and Princess Di was just… Instead, she nodded.

"Wow! You know…that appeals! Although it would have to be something without children. I don't like children."  
"Really? Why not?"

"They don't like me."

"Chloe. Children love every one. Their love is unconditional. They will be the first to queue and give you a hug. And as for adults not liking you…The only person who doesn't like you who matters – is you."

There was silence for a moment and then Chloe stood up. "I can see why he loves you Casey." She admitted. Casey looked embarrassed.

Chloe continued. "I will think about what you've said." And then she laughed. "But, just so you know, you may have won the guy and you'd probably be able to negotiate world peace given half the chance. But tonight, as far as this competition goes…_Your ass is mine!_"

She grinned warmly at Casey who beamed back.

"Bring it, sister!"

* * *

**AN: Okay…this overran. One more chapter and then the epilogue. *grin***


	43. Finally!

By Curtain-up, Casey's room looked like a florist had taken root. She had massive bouquets of flowers on every surface from her family, from her friends, from her publisher and her agent. The only person she didn't have flowers from was Derek. That confused her slightly, but she tried to reason that he wouldn't have lost interest so quickly…not after chasing after her for so long.

Luan came into her dressing room in the last few minutes before the show went on air and handed Casey a small parcel. Frowning, Casey opened it and gasped.

Inside the enclosed box was a pretty platinum necklace with a heart-shaped pendant, a diamond set in its centre, and a pair of matching earrings. A small card announced "So I'll be right with you on stage tonight. I love you, Dxx"

Luan came to view the gift and she smiled. "You know if the world knew about this, you'd be the envy of every woman on the planet."

Casey was less sure. She didn't think that most women would want to go through the indecision of recent years. But she appreciated Derek's sentiment. It was lonely out on stage.

Chloe chose the last dance from Dirty Dancing as her dance routine which Casey thought was brave. For a while Trevor had talked about Casey doing it, but the latter had refused saying that she wasn't confident that she could execute the final dive – and if you mess that up you mess up the whole routine.

In reality, Chloe messed it up, falling at the last moment and in their new spirit of "sisterhood" Casey felt sorry for her although she was careful to keep the pity from her eyes.

Casey's own dance routine played on her love of the classic. Trevor again donned his top hat and tails and led her around the stage in "Let's face the music and dance." It was traditional, elegant and technically perfect. Casey smiled and her eyes sparkled and Trevor grinned his own smirk at her – The judges loved it.

The third contestant was never really in it.

* * *

Casey had changed out of her bouncing pink feathered ball gown. She was dressed instead in a long clinging gown, in a deep purple colour which was woven with silver threads so that although the dress remained purple and the silver was evident everywhere, it was strongest on her curves. It moulded with her body and shimmered as she moved. Around her neck hung Derek's gift, its matching earrings glinting from her ears because her hair was elaborately curled and styled into an "up job" that looked as though a team of hairdressers had worked on it for an entire day…instead of the ten minutes they had actually had.

She loved the glamour.

But even Casey's elegance couldn't detract from the spectacle that was Chloe. She stood in the wings in a blood red column dress. It was couture and expensive and it totally suited Chloe.

That wasn't what had Trevor hyperventilating though.

"Trevor, are you okay?" Casey asked, seeing her dance teacher flushed and sweating on the sidelines. "What's up"

"Ungh!" Trevor muttered. Casey frowned.

"Trevor?" She pushed, a hand on his shoulder.

"Ignore him." A voice said from behind Casey.

Harriet.

"Oh?"  
"He's just in shock and quite frankly, he's just being an idiot."

Casey frowned again. "Sorry you lost me."  
Before Harriet could reply, Trevor spoke.

"She touched my hand and called me darling." He gasped. "I'm never washing that hand again."

"I though he was gay." Casey pointed out to Harriet.

"He is." Harriet acknowledged. "But he's also just bumped into Gloria Gaynor who is apparently his heroine."

Casey looked shocked. "Gloria Gaynor? What's she doing here?"  
Harriet shrugged. "It's "Anything Goes" Casey. To Chloe that means she can pick Gloria Gaynor as a backing singer…and of course she's Trevor's favourite gay icon."

"Backing singer?" Casey's jaw dropped. "But that would mean…"  
Harriet smiled. "Yup!"

And before either of them could say another word, they heard Chloe's voice sing

"_First I was afraid, I was petrified…"_

Casey looked at Harriet in a panic.

"I can't compete with that!" She slumped into a nearby chair. "I have a ballad and a family snaps sideshow. How can that compete with the original artist singing back up on her own song?"

Harriet grinned. "Casey, Casey, Casey…Stop underestimating yourself. You can do this."

Casey humpfed and slumped further down the chair, dejectedly.

* * *

"You've got a text." Luan said to Casey holding out her phone.

**You're beautiful and I love you. **Derek's text message read. Casey smiled to herself, and handed her phone back to Luan, who was also wearing evening dress tonight. In fact glancing around, everyone seemed dressed up.

"By the way, you look stunning." Casey told her.

"Thank you. Are you ready?" her friend asked.

"This is it, isn't it?" Casey asked patting her dress down nervously. "The last song of the competition."

Trevor smiled, "Nope. When you win this you will need to do a reprise, and then there's the special song."

"What special song?" Casey asked in horror.

"Whooops!" Trevor said with an apologetic grin. "Haven't we rehearsed it?" Then he beamed at her. "Just kidding."

"You mean if I win I won't have to sing again."

"Oh of course you will. We have rehearsed it. I just didn't tell you why we were rehearsing it."

"Trevor…" She protested.

"Casey…" He replied with a smirk.

"Nevermind."

* * *

Casey should be used to this by now. She should be used to getting up on the stage and singing for her supper. But the five weeks hadn't changed her feeling that she didn't belong up there. She wasn't nervous as such, just…reticent. It had been five weeks.

When she started this journey she was alone, upset and worried. Casey had felt resigned to a life alone, upset because her life hadn't run to plan and worried because it seemed as though the person she cared about most in the world was in a similar state and she couldn't even phone him to ask how she could help.

Now, she was reunited with Derek. Casey wasn't upset about her life anymore, and whilst she was nervous about how people were going to accept her and Derek as a couple there was an extremely stubborn streak in her which stated that they would _have_ to accept it.

She wasn't looking forward to losing friends though.

The last minute fussing was over, her hair, clothes and make-up were perfect. She was ready. She kissed a finger and touched it to the pendant around her neck and took the final steps onto the stage.

It was dark and there was an absence of sound. No music, no speech, no singing.

A crackle cut the air, and with a small flicker of light the blank screen behind her became a movie screen.

"Mommy!" A five-year old Casey shouted. "Jasper won't play with me."

Casey smiled to herself at the memory, waiting.

On the screen, a younger Nora appeared, a tiny baby in her arms. "Well maybe Casey you shouldn't pull his tail."

The audience laughed.

The screen flickered again. This time it was a twelve-year old Casey lecturing a seven year old Lizzie on the art of flirting.

Grown up Casey blushed and the audience laughed again.

The screen flickered for a final time and began to play the chaos of a living room filling with family members collecting for a portrait. Seventeen year old Casey walked around the sofa and seventeen year old Derek stuck his leg out to trip her up. She fell, he caught her and the screen froze on the tableau of the whole family watching the two main players as they squared up for battle: Casey livid. Derek smirking. But the light was there in both sets of eyes.

The orchestra played soft notes as the sound from the video continued even though the picture was frozen.

"You tripped me!"

"You just have big feet."

"Says the guy who orders in from Clownmania."

"Ouch! You wound me with your blunt wit."

"At least I have wit. You don't have room for any, you're one big ego."

"Casey!" Derek sounded shocked. "You shouldn't be looking."

"What? Urgh! That's just…Der-ek!"

"Case-y!"

A piano started to play and the picture behind Casey changed to a still of a toddler Casey with Nora and Dennis. And as grown-up Casey started to sing, the orchestra picked up the accompaniment to Christina Aguilera's "I turn to you".

"When I'm lost in the rain, in your eyes I know I'll find the light to light my way."

The pictures began to change, becoming pictures of Casey through the years, first with Nora, then Dennis, then Lizzie. The screen ran through Casey's life, family and loves slowly and in time to the music as she sang.

"When I'm scared, losing ground, when my world is going crazy you can turn it all around. And when I'm down you're there pushing me to the top. You're always there giving me all you've got."

As Casey reached the refrain, there was movement she couldn't see behind her and a figure in a long purple evening dress a shade lighter than Casey's appeared and walked across to the middle of the stage. She was carrying a microphone. The backdrop screen froze on a picture of Casey hugging a young Marti.

Casey, oblivious, carried on singing.

"For a shield, from the storm for a friend, for a love, to keep me safe and warm…"

"I turn to you." sang Marti. Casey turned in surprise but she carried on singing as she made her way up the stage to her youngest sister and took her hand. The picture changed to one of Casey and Lizzie a few years back.

"For the strength to be strong, for the will to carry on. For everything you do, for everything that's true…"

Lizzie's voice carried across the stage. "I turn to you".

Casey jerked her head around and smiled, letting go of Marti's hand and blowing a kiss to the elder sister.

She stepped back to the front of the stage.

"When I lose the will to win, I just reach for you and I can reach the sky again. I can do anything 'cause your love is so amazing. 'Cause your love inspires me."

Another figure entered the stage quickly descending to Casey, this time the microphone was raised and Emily sang with Casey as she began.

"And when I need a friend you're always on my side, giving me faith taking me through the night."

Both the women's voices were powerful and Casey, who knew that Emily could sing, but not like _that_ grinned broadly at her friend.

And then there was a stream of people, all dressed in shades of black or purple, emerging from the wings: Nora, George, Dennis, Edwin, Robbie, Ralph, Sam, school friends, college friends including Clare and her daughter. Casey gaped in amazement and even in the midst of the surprise, she knew Derek had something to do with it.

He had filled the stage with everyone she loved. And they were all singing with her, and it sounded good. She wondered how long they had all spent rehearsing and suddenly the unexplained absences of her song/dance team over the past week became explained. They were rehearsing with her family and friends for the biggest (and sweetest) Derek prank she had ever experienced.

"For a shield, from the storm, for a friend, for a love to keep me safe and warm, I turn to you. For the strength to be strong and for the will to carry on. For everything you do I turn to you yeah."

Everyone was there – except Derek.

And then he was there, dressed in a smart black tuxedo with a vest the exact same shade of purple as her own dress, his hand extended to her. And Casey took it, touching Derek on camera for the very first time.

"For the arms to be my shelter through all the rain; for truth that will never change; for someone to lean on. for a heart I can rely on through anything; for the one who I can run to…oh!" She couldn't help but sing the words to him. "I turn to you."

And the chorus of friends and family behind her kept up the refrain as Casey sang an altered melody above, Derek sliding an arm around her and pulling her close.

"For a shield from the storm, for a friend, for a love to keep me safe and warm, I turn to you. For the strength to be strong, for the will to carry on, for everything you do, for everything that's true...For everything you do, for everything that's true…"

Casey paused and turned round. "I turn to you."

She turned back and Derek caught her chin in his hand.

"I love you." He murmured in the dying notes and before Casey could reply, and in front of half of Canada, Derek Venturi - hockey god - kissed his step-sister hard on the mouth.

To the rousing cheers of the chorus on the stage.

"Well that's one way to make an announcement!" The TV shows' presenter said to the laughter of the theatre audience who were still on their feet from the standing ovation they had given Casey's performance.

A rather shocked-looking Casey smiled weakly as Derek squeezed her waist and murmured words of comfort into her hair. Then, Chloe and the other contestant joined them on stage for the judges' comments and result.

Chloe was stone-faced, but when she thought no one was watching, she winked at Casey.

It was no surprise when Casey won.

* * *

She reprised "I Turn to You" with the stage full from the outset, and this time, Luan, Trevor and Harriet joined them. As the introduction started, Derek kissed her hand and stepped back to give her the space she needed.

The volume from the number of people on the stage was breath-taking.

After the song finished, Casey raised her microphone. "I've been asked why I took part in this show…and why I stuck with it." She smiled at the people behind her. "A few years ago I met a young lady who captured my heart with her tiny hand and who I am proud to call my god-daughter. Then she got sick and watching her brave face struggle through it would put anyone's life in perspective. She's well again now and it was down to people such as those we are raising money for tonight. On behalf of my little sweetie and me, I would like to say to all those faceless angels who work tireless to help sick children…a very big _thank you_…and if getting up on stage in front of you lot is the best way I can do it…" She grinned. "I'm in…a thousand times…I'm in. And thank you."

It was time for the special encore. Harriet whispered in Casey's ear and she smiled stepping forward and looking down at the pianist below. He nodded. Casey stepped back a step and raised the microphone again.

"I've paid my dues…Time after time." The tinkling of the piano cut through the air as it joined her in Queen's "We are the Champions".

"I've done my sentence…but committed no crime." This time the electric guitar joined her.

"And bad mistakes…I've made a few."

She straightened and her voice rose in a crescendo. "I've had my share of sand kicked in my face…But I've come through!"

Now she moved across the stage while the orchestra and band played the linking notes.

"We are the champions…my friends."

Trevor and Harriet had been training the chorus behind Casey to sing this too. They all joined in.

"And we'll keep on fighting till the end. We are the champions. We are the champions. No time for losers 'Cause we are the champions…of the world!"

Casey quietened again. "I've taken my bows…And my curtain calls. You brought me fame and fortune and everything that goes with it…I thank you all."

She changed sides of the stage. "But it's been no bed of roses, No pleasure cruise…I consider it a challenge before the whole human race…" She pointedly turned around and looked at Derek. "And I _never_ lose!"

He blew her a kiss.

"We are the champions - my friends

And we'll keep on fighting - till the end -

We are the champions -

We are the champions

No time for losers

'Cause we are the champions…"

She took a deep breath.

"…of the world."

* * *

**AN: Only the epilogue to go.**


	44. Epilogue

"Okay girls. That's a wrap!"

The sound of clapping came from the edge of the set where the director and camera crew were seated, and Casey looked up to see there were several people watching the proceedings. She turned to her companion and grinned.

"Thank god! I'm sick of that song!"

Chloe smiled back. "Me too. I like songs with lyrics that _mean_ something."

Casey giggled. "It could have been worse. When my family first heard that we were going to be on reality TV together they suggested you and I should sing "I know him so well."

Chloe looked blank so Casey sung a couple of lines. Her friend's eyes widened.

"I agree. I do prefer Bootylicious." Chloe admitted.

"Oh definitely."

They packed up their things and left the studio together. Outside a limousine was waiting to take the two girls back to their hotel.

"So when do you leave?" Casey asked.

Chloe looked excited. "Day after tomorrow. I've finished all my shots, my bags are packed. I've even been to see my family."

Casey was pleasantly surprised. "Really?" She asked. Chloe nodded.

"And how was that?" Casey asked.

Chloe looked out of the window thoughtfully. "It was good…I think. Bridges were mended, promises were made. They wanted me to come home, but when I explained what I was doing…where I was going, they understood. In fact, I think they were proud of me…more than before."

"They're your family, Chloe. They are proud of you all the time."

"Yeah. Well. I'm not proud of myself…but maybe while I'm in Sudan I'll do stuff that I can be proud of."

"You will."

"I've had an offer from a documentary maker to come and film my work out there."

Casey looked at her quickly. "Are you going to say yes?"

Chloe shook her head. "No. This is about me giving something. I don't want to take some thing for myself out of it."

Casey patted the back of her hand. "You'll do fine."

"Thanks. And thanks for asking me to do the album and video. I enjoyed it…except the Bootylicious track. My ass aches."

Casey threw back her head and laughed and after a pause so did Chloe.

Chloe was not her new best friend. Even now she was still more of a casual friend than anything closer. But in a strange way she had also become Chloe's confidante. The model had shared some of her new goals with Derek's step-sister – almost as if looking for her approval. Casey didn't mind. There was plenty to approve of in Chloe's new life plan. It nearly all involved doing good for others.

The giving and taking of advice between the two had started in the washrooms of the VIP suite at the concert hall after the reality show weeks ago. Chloe had made her way to the bar as soon as they had been released from the stage, needing a drink after the stress of the show. If she was honest, she hadn't actually expected to win in the end, but it was still hard to be knocked off the top spot. She would have liked someone to take her mind off the competition but her support staff was busy picking up her things and arranging to transport her to her apartment, so she was alone in a crowd of people. She sighed.

Most of the guests had absolutely nothing to do with the show but were considered "important". Some of them weren't even important but had somehow managed to charm an invitation into the room.

Like the guy who leaned against the bar next to Chloe as soon as she reached it.

She placed her order with the barman, and glanced around the room while she waited. The guy next to her ignored her in a pointed way. Chloe, still learning how to settle in her new skin, bristled slightly at his brush-off. She was used to people staring at her, and he definitely wasn't. She looked at him more closely.

She supposed some might call him attractive…okay, quite a lot of people would. He reminded her of some famous actor who she was sure had some sort of Greek or Mediterranean heritage. His hair was dark and though he probably put himself down as Caucasian on official forms, his skin had warmth she had seen before in Italians. His clothes were well-cut and expensive; a little too clean cut, slightly unreal.

He continued to ignore her and she continued to stare for a moment and then made as though to move away.

Eventually, he spoke; his words held a confidence which bordered on arrogance.

"You seen enough?" He asked her back. Chloe froze.

"What?" She asked turning back.

He smirked. "I said, have you seen enough? Don't worry. You can stare at me some more if you like."

"Why would I want to do that?" Chloe asked, reluctantly drawn towards this stranger.

"You seemed to be enjoying yourself."

"I thought I knew you." Chloe said, which was half the truth.

The guy grinned. "I use that line all the time."

Chloe frowned. "It wasn't a line. I meant it."  
"Sure you did, Chloe. It _is_ Chloe, isn't it?"

"_DO_ I know you?"

"Nope. But I know you."

Chloe snorted. "You and most of Canada."

"My! We do have a high opinion of ourselves don't we?"

Chloe didn't bother answering. She wasn't actually being arrogant. It was a fact. Most of Canada knew her by sight. Her face adorned billboards in most towns.

"You married Derek Venturi." The stranger said. There was a tone to his voice when he said Derek's name which was contemptuous as though he didn't like the hockey star.

"Sort of." Chloe had learnt her lesson. She no longer claimed what the whole world knew wasn't true.

"You have my sympathies." The guy said.

"You don't like him." It was a statement she knew wouldn't be denied.

"Our paths have crossed."

"Oh." Chloe wasn't sure what else to say. The stranger shifted on his seat slightly and placed a hand on her arm.

"In fact," He said. "I guess you and are both casualties of his bulldozer approach to life. I'll buy you a drink. You can ogle me some more and we can sympathise with each other. Commiserate. Get to know each other a little better."

He grinned white teeth at her and Chloe realised she was in the process of being picked up; that the dismissive attitude had been a deliberate hook. She wondered if she minded. He was certainly attractive and it had been a while since she had last let a guy pick her up in a bar. She smiled weakly.

At that moment, the barman came over to them and before the stranger could place his order, the barman slipped a piece of paper into Chloe's hand.

She frowned and opened it. A careful, feminine script ordered:

**Excuse yourself and come to the Ladies' washrooms.**

There was no signature, but Chloe thought it must be one of her staff. She handed the paper back to the barman.

"I just need to go powder my nose." She said using a phrase that she knew had connotations. She had found that people were so busy working out if she really was "powdering" her nose that they often let her escape even when they were determined she should stay.

(For the record, "powdering her nose" was something she hadn't done since she was 19 when her manager caught her and whisked her off to a "retreat" for a "vacation". She wasn't going back there – either to the "retreat" or the mindset that had her throwing thousands of dollars away on powered goods.) Heroin chic was so passe.

The stranger nodded. "Sure. I _might_ be here when you get back."

Chloe weaved her way through the swarm of people who wanted to talk to her and made her way into the bathroom. She pushed open the red and gilt door and entered a brightly lit room with deep pile carpet and soft velvet upholstered chairs. Standing leaning against the vanity unit was Casey.

"You got my note?" Casey asked. Chloe nodded.

"What's up?"

They weren't friends, they weren't even "frenemies", especially since Casey had just walked away with Chloe's former husband _and_ the competition which was supposed to showcase Chloe's hidden talents and relegate her "step-sister-in-law" to the also-rans. However, they had crossed a line this week. It was a line which meant that Chloe was prepared to stay and listen to Derek's girlfriend.

"Do you trust me, Chloe?" Casey asked.

"Hmmm…with what?" Chloe raised an eyebrow.

Casey sighed. "Do you trust me to be honest with you?"  
Chloe took a moment to think. "Yes. You've been honest with me so far."

Casey took a deep breath and told Chloe the story of a school fashion show and teenager's party in Toronto.

"The guy sounds like a jerk." Chloe said at the end of it.

"Yeah. He is. He hit on Derek's girlfriend and anything else in a skirt. Believe me, if you think Derek has a high opinion of himself…"

"Derek stuck up for you?"

"Yes. It was a bit of a shock."

"Why are you telling me? What was the urgency?"  
Casey blew out a breath. "That guy you're talking to…at the bar?"

Chloe nodded.

"That's Truman."

Chloe emerged from the washrooms a few minutes later and regained her place at the bar. A Bourbon was sitting waiting on a small cocktail napkin. Truman looked up.

"I figured you're a Bourbon kind of gal."

Chloe liked Bourbon…but only in the glass of the guy she was about to kiss.

"You didn't tell me your name." She pointed out to the "stranger" and ignoring the drink.

"Truman…Truman French."

"Interesting name." Chloe said knowing that the rest of Casey's story was probably true too.

"We're an old Toronto family. It's an old family name. Old Toronto, Old family, Old money." He boasted.

Chloe leaned towards him. "Tell me Truman. If you could rate me on a scale of one to ten, what number would I be?"

Truman looked taken aback by her sudden proximity…and her question. But then he smirked and put a hand on her thigh.

"Definitely a six and a half." He answered her.

Chloe nodded.

She picked up the glass containing the amber coloured liquid and swirled it absent-mindedly. "Six and a half…really?"

He nodded.

"Well Truman French," Chloe shook his hand from her leg and stood up. "I _know_ I'm an 11."

She jerked her wrist and threw the contents of the glass in his face.

"By the way, Casey and Derek say Hi!"

And then she walked away.

* * *

Casey was sitting at her desk in her bedroom; her laptop open in front of her at the end of a long day's work. Currently, she was reading her emails and she had saved the best till last. It was long, full of anecdotes and amusing stories, rich and colourful in its descriptions and she thought the author had missed their calling. She smiled at the final salutation and glanced up to look at the warm evening sun as it set.

The warm air from outside brought with it the strong scent of flowers, and she could hear the birds in the garden below as they chirruped about their day to each other.

She had loved this spot from the moment she first saw it. One of the happiest days of her life had been the day when Derek had announced he was going to buy it…and she knew now, as she had guessed at the time, that her reaction to the room had been a big part of his decision.

The door to the bedroom opened and a very bedraggled and smelly Derek entered.

"Urgh!" Casey exclaimed as he bent to kiss her neck. "Couldn't you have showered at the club?"

"Nope." He announced.

"Why?"  
He kissed her again. "Because then I'd have missed your reaction to my sweaty body." He grinned, confirming her assumption, yet again, that he was the very devil in a hockey shirt.

She batted him away. "Go shower. No more groping till you smell better."

His face fell, but he knew she was resolute. "I don't suppose you fancy joining me?" He asked, hopefully. He wanted to shower but he also wanted Casey. Exercise triggered his libido and it had been several hours since they had woken up in bed. He ran a hand down her arm and attempted to remove her fingers from the keyboard.

"No Derek. I have to finish my emails and you smell too much. If I showered with you it would rub off on me and then I would smell too much."

"I'd soap you down."

Casey rolled her eyes. "Yes my love, I know. I also know what form that soaping down would take…talk to me about it again when you are clean. I need to reply to this email."  
Derek gave up and started stripping his clothes from his body. Casey watched for a moment and then turned back to her screen.

"Who is the email from?" Derek asked later, towelling his hair and smelling a lot sweeter.

"Chloe." Casey answered with her eyes still on the screen.

An involuntary smile crossed Derek's lips. He couldn't believe how lucky he was that his former "wife" and very current girlfriend had reached such an amicable accommodation. Their "friendship" was unconventional but they were very definitely part of each other's support network…despite everything that had gone before.

Chloe had been in the Sudan for six months now working for Medicin Sans Frontier – and by working, it appeared she meant changing the diapers of tiny disease-ridden babies, scrubbing the floors of hospitals where weeds grew through the tiles, and washing the clothes of the medical staff she worked alongside.

"How's she doing?"

"Good. She's met a doctor." Casey said.

"I should think she's met lots of doctors, Case. Isn't that the point?"  
Casey laughed. "No. _Met_ met. She's fallen in love."

Derek stopped and stared at Casey. "You're kidding?"

"No. She's decided to extend her stay indefinitely. She says he's British and has a really wicked sense of humour. Apparently, he wooed her in the dark when the generator failed."

"And she's happy?"

"Very. You can read if you like."

Derek matched Casey's smile with his own, but he shook his head. He was pleased that Chloe had found happiness and her true place in the world, but she was very much his past.

"Just tell me the potted highlights." He said.

Casey started to open her mouth, but Derek put his hands on her shoulders and the towel dropped from his body.

"Later." He added.

* * *

Much later, Derek sat in his den, every hunger sated. Casey was once again upstairs, determined to answer the email from Chloe, so until she returned her attention to him, he was watching TV. He liked his life right now.

After much cajoling, Casey had moved into his apartment as soon as they returned from their promised month on his island. (It was his island now. He had bought the house they normally rented as a "congratulations" surprise for Casey. He bought it the day after he stayed the night in her hotel for the first time. There had never been any doubt in his mind that she would win.)

She had been a little reluctant to move in to his house at first, saying it was too early in their relationship and that they might be a disaster together.

So Derek had spent two days with her, shut up in the bedroom of their villa only opening the door for food delivered by the hired help. By the time they emerged, she had changed her mind.

Now, the Toronto bedroom with the balcony and the view of the garden was _theirs_. He had caught her leaning on the balcony the first night and had pointedly asked her whether she had agreed to move in because she was in love with him or the "wow" factor in the bedroom. Casey had giggled and told him it was definitely the "wow" factor. And then the conversation became a mass of innuendo and double entendres that was only ever going to end one way – a tangle of limbs on their new bed.

Their relationship was very passionate – both physically and emotionally. They argued a lot, but they made up a lot too. Privately, they both thought they argued for the sole purpose of making up. Despite the misgivings of those around them many years ago, it was a very healthy relationship.

If anyone in their family or close circle of friends had misgivings now, they kept them to themselves. From the moment Derek had announced their relationship on camera in front of millions – and their friends, the reaction to them had been largely positive.

There were a few church groups who had failed to read the dictionary definition of incest…or, in fact, of bigamy. (Derek was branded adulterous or incestuous and sometimes both). However, as predicted, about a week after Casey sang the last note on the stage, a high-profile protestant minister announced that he had impregnated his married housekeeper and a tiny paragraph in the tabloids mentioned that it was believed Derek and Casey were vacationing at his new villa. And they were old news.

Or rather they _had _been old news.

Until today.

* * *

Casey, upstairs in their room had finished her emails and, because she had a slight sadistic streak, was now googling herself.

Stories about her and Derek normally appeared in the entertainment and sports blogs a couple of times a week, and that no longer worried her. She did however, like to keep a track of exactly _what_ they were saying about her.

Tonight's headlines came as a bit of a shock.

**Derek Venturi to wed.**

Her eyes bugged out of their sockets. She scrolled down and read the article.

_Whilst not the first time there has been speculation about eligible bachelor, Derek Venturi and possible wedding bells, rumours have begun circulating today that the hockey superstar and his long-term girlfriend slash step-sister are planning a Christmas wedding._

_People who claim to be "in the know" say that Derek proposed whilst they were on vacation and they have already agreed on the location for the wedding, the dress and are currently arguing over the guest list. Friends say that Casey is desperate for them to tie the knot sooner rather than later, and even suggested that they marry in Vegas. _

_Whatever, it appears that all is rosy in the Venturi camp. One wonders what Miss Prescott would make of all this._

Casey clicked through the rest of the bulletins which all said much of a muchness. Friends "close" to the couple believed he had proposed. Plans were underway…etc etc.

No doubt the general public was fascinated. A big celebrity wedding was on the cards.

Except that Casey knew it that it wasn't. She couldn't help but be a little disappointed that they were so far off base.

After half an hour, Casey traced the source of the rumours to a surprising conclusion. The very first mention of the "approaching nuptials" had come from her favourite reviewer – the one lone (gay) voice who had portrayed a true picture of her time on the reality TV show. Casey was shocked, and slightly disappointed as she read his comments.

_**A Pleasant Surprise.**_

_In my job it is often the case that we hear about the breakdown of celebrity relationships, and the ensuring carnage. It was a pleasant surprise for me to discover today that I can be the bearer of good tidings for once – impending nuptials no less!_

_And with the announcement comes a degree of disappointment as those of you who followed my commentary of the "Stars with Hearts" competition earlier this year will understand._

_The competition which was ably won by Miss Casey McDonald was a highlight of a dull winter, and almost convinced this columnist that he should convert from homosexuality and become a one-woman man._

_However, this is beside the point. The person who did end up with the aforementioned goddess (Miss McDonald – bless her!) none other than the (wickedly hot) Derek Venturi, is apparently in the process of sealing the deal._

_I have it on good authority that a wedding will shortly be announced in the McDonald-Venturi camp, and that the happy couple will not be hanging around before naming a date._

_Apparently, Mr Venturi considers it a complete miracle that Miss McDonald, otherwise known as his step-sister, ever became his at all, and is so scared of her changing her mind/making a break for freedom that he is prepared to move heaven and high-water to make her his._

_This reporter for one wishes them all the very best in their new Venture!_

Casey sat back in her chair and went into shock.

Derek was forced to go looking for Casey when she didn't appear downstairs as expected.

"Hey! Where did you get to?" He asked, bursting into their bedroom.

"Did you know about this?" Casey asked, accusatorially.

"Know about what?" Derek asked blankly.

"These new rumours." Casey half-answered.

Derek looked taken aback. "New rumours?"

"Yes. New rumours. About us." She clarified.

Derek shook his head. "What are the rumours about?"

Casey looked away. "Our impending…" She paused. "Nuptials."

Derek coughed. "Nuptials?"

"Yes." Casey answered, somewhat exasperatedly. "Did you know?"  
"Tim mentioned something about it at lunchtime." Derek answered.

"And what did Tim suggest?" Casey asked, still annoyed.

"About what?" Derek asked blankly.

"What did Tim suggest we do about the rumours?" Casey joined the dots for Derek, somewhat frustrated by his uncharacteristic cotton-wool-gathering.

"Erm…that we release a statement." Derek suggested lamely.

"A statement?" Casey queried. "And…? Has he?"  
"Has he what?"

"Made. A. Statement?" Casey asked carefully, trying not to lose her temper.

"No?"

"Why not?" Casey asked again anger building.

"I said I'd handle it." Derek filled in.

"And?"

"And what?" Derek asked.

"Have. You. Handled it?" Casey spelled out again.

"Erm…yes?" Derek tried.

"You've released a statement?" Casey glared at Derek.

"No."

"No?" Casey rubbed at the space between her eyes. "What did you do?"

Derek smirked. "I bought you a ring."

Casey stared at him, and then at the box he had produced from his pocket.

"And…" He continued. "For the avoidance of doubt. I do know about the rumours." And with the biggest smirk of his life he admitted,

"I started them."

**Fin.**

* * *

**AN: Thank you for putting up with my less than prompt updating towards the end. It wasn't planned. Sometimes, you know that you are just too tired to do the writing justice so you put it off for another day or two!**

**I'm not posting anymore chapters of this, because I think we all know how it ends.**

**Thank you to everyone who made suggestions for tracks they wanted to see performed. I did incorporate some of them. In fact the whole Casey and Chloe make a record thing came out of a suggestion from several of you. Power to the reviewers!**

**Now…I'm just going to go off and write some Mikey and Casey dialogue…**

**See you on the review page of The Legacy!**


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